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THE POORHODSE LARK 


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BY 


MARY B. WILLEY 




' r; 1 — > — 

F. TENNYSON 

NEELY 

114 Fifth Avenue 

96 Queen Street 

NEW YORK 

LONDON 


the lJBRA«y OF 
CON f,' HESS, 

T wo Cowuc H tobivEU 

NOV, 2 ^ 18 ifi 2 

CinBvttjeitrr 

JK'Vv) 

CLASS YXC «o. 
CO^Y B. 


Copyright, 1902, 
by 


MARY B. WILLEY, 
in the 

United State* 
and 




Great Britain. 


Entered at Stationers’ Hall, 
London. 


All Rights Reserved. 


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TAr Poorhouse Lark. 


TO MY 

BELOVED NEPHEWS AND NIECES, 
THIS BOOK IS LOVINGLY DEDICATED BY 


THE AUTHOR. 


I 


THE POORHOUSE LARK. 


A commonplace life, we say, and we sigh; 

But why should we sigh as we say? 

The commonplace sun in the commonplace sky 
Makes up the commonplace day. 

The moon and the stars are commonplace things, 
The flower that blooms and the bird that sings ; 
But sad was the world and dark our lot 
If flowers failed and the sun shone not; 

And God who sees each separate soul 
Out of commonplace lives makes his beautiful 
whole. 


— Susan Coolidge. 


PREFACE. 


We do not think of life as a single unbroken 
span. It has its epochs, which are divided and 
subdivided until the infinitesimal is reached. 

Neither is it in any case made up wholly of 
great things. 

Kings and queens have their times of tutorage 
and discipline — ^their day of small things, and no 
man comes to his little season of honor, what- 
ever it may be, who cannot tell of very common- 
place and plodding steps in his passage thither. 

iThe following story is not wrought out of great 
things, but from common, every-day events, and 
the aim has been to so use these as not only to 
amuse, but to lift the reader to a little higher 
plane of living in working out his own common- 
places. The Author. 



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CONTENTS 


CHAPTER I. PAGE 

Dan’s Introduction to the Reader 1 

CHAPTER II. 

Miss Elvira 6 

CHAPTER III. 

A Visit to the Poorhouse 12 

CHAPTER IV. 

How Dan Obtained His Title 19 

CHAPTER V. 

Crazy Luce 23 

CHAPTER VI. 

The Solution of a Problem 30 

CHAPTER VII. 

Miss Elvira’s Struggle 32 

CHAPTER VIII. 

First Impressions 37 

CHAPTER IX. 

The Teardrop 41 

CHAPTER X. 

Theories 47 

CHAPTER XI. 

Keeno 52 


X 


Contents. 

CHAPTER XII. PAGE 

School Life 60 

CHAPTER XIII. 

Characteristics 65 

CHAPTER XIV. 

The Ashtons 72 

CHAPTER XV. 

Crazy Luce’s Visit to Braton 82 

CHAPTER XVI. 

The Tramp 87 

CHAPTER XVII. 

Walter McCrae 91 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

The Bank Robbery 96 

CHAPTER XIX. 

Trifles 102 

CHAPTER XX. 

The Stirred Nest 107 

CHAPTER XXI. 

Strange Happenings 116 

CHAPTER XXII. 

The Letter 122 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

The Entertainment 128 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

Exchanged Confidences 132 

CHAPTER XXV. 

On the Piazza 136 

CHAPTER XXVI. 

Adverse Seeming 141 


Contents. xi 

CHAPTER XXVII. page 

TChe Prize Contest 146 

CHAPTER XXVIII. 

Dan at Ashton Farm 154 

CHAPTER XXIX. 

Vailette’s Decision 159 

CHAPTER XXX. 

Fidelity at the Center 165 

CHAPTER XXXI. 

John Henry 169 

CHAPTER XXXII. 

John Henry’s Proposition 178 

CHAPTER XXXHI. 

Kitty’s Visit 187 

CHAPTER XXXIV. 

Miss Elvira Visits Ashton Farm 198 

CHAPTER XXXV. 

Changes 202 

CHAPTER XXXVI. 

Vailette 205 

CHAPTER XXXVII. 

Shadows 209 

CHAPTER XXXVHI. 

Conclusion 218 


i 

I 

4 


k 


V 

I 

j 


:s 


THE POORHOUSE LARK. 


CHAPTER L 

dan’s introduction to the reader. 

We come upon the stage and act our little part. 

^^Daniel Webster, you leave that cat alone and 
go and do your work. Your father will soon be 
here and Prince will want his supper, and a 
pretty time thereTl be of it if his stable isn’t 
ready. You know Dr. Snell never likes it if I let 
you be slack about your work,” and Miss Elvira 
Gleason gave her head that decided poise which 
the young mischief, Dan, knew meant an event- 
ual coming to time on his part. 

As the household well knew, the use of the term 
^^Daniel Webster” always meant business on the 
part of Miss Elvira, as on ordinary occasions 
^^Dan” or ^^Daniel” was quite sufficient. 

But when, as in the present case, a long speech 
followed the name of the renowned statesman, the 
quick-witted Dan knew that although he must 
eventually capitulate, there was chance for a par- 


2 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


ley, and snch opportunities seldom passed unim- 
proved. 

His face assumed a look of comically pathetic 
entreaty as he replied : ^^Why, Miss Viry ! HavenH 
you any heart? Just look at Tiger. He’s aw- 
fully lame, and being a doctor’s son maybe I could 
help him if you’d let me stay long enough. But I 
must go to my work if you say so,” and seizing his 
cap he started for the door, meantime casting a 
pitying look at Tiger, who w^as hopping across the 
floor on three legs. 

The ^^Daniel Webster” which came this time, 
was not to be trifled with, and seizing the cat, Dan 
replaced the bones which he had purposely thrown 
out of joint, and Miss Elvira’s pet Tiger was him- 
self again. Then the embryo physician skipped 
out of doors to give vent to the laughter with 
which he came near exploding, and which his bet- 
ter judgment told him had better not be indulged 
in visibly while Miss Elvira was in her then frame 
of mind. Then he flew to the barn with all speed 
to do the work which he well knew should have been 
done an hour before. 

Dr. Snell was the leading physician in the town 
of Burleigh, and Daniel Webster, or Dan, as he 
was familiarly known, was his only child. 

His wife died some years before the opening of 
our story, leaving her family to the care of Miss 
Elvira, the faithful family servant, who had been 
with her throughout her married life. 

Previous to the death of his wife, little note was 
taken of the age of Dr. Snell, but since that event 
this had become more and more a matter of inter- 
est, especially to the feminine members of the 


Dan’s Introduction to the Reader, 3 


social circles of Burleigh, who held various opin- 
ions on this important question. 

Mrs. Clemens, a second cousin of his wife, and 
v/ho was therefore considered authority, was sure 
his 3^ears must number nearly or quite fifty, for 
he graduated from the Medical College in the same 
class with her first husband^s brother, and that 
event she felt tolerably certain, occurred the sum- 
mer her daughter Almira was born, which was, she 
said — ^Must twenty-eight years ago.'^^ 

A look from the wrathful Almira stayed the 
further substantiating of facts on the age of this 
somewhat faded damsel, and Mrs. Grover who 
contended on some equally important ground that 
he was not a day over forty, had the best of it, 
much to the amusement of those mothers who had 
no marriageable daughters at stake, and those with 
the good sense not to care to know a thing so un- 
important which one thought better to refrain from 
making public. 

If the phrase, ^^Fair and forty,^^ applied to men. 
Dr. Snell could, more than the ordinary man, ap- 
propriate it. 

His years numbered more than four times ten, 
but he looked scarcely more than thirty-five. 

He was of medium height and rather stoutly 
built, with a quickness and constancy of movement 
which reminded one of a jumping-jack that had 
undertaken to represent perpetual motion. 

His face was a good sign board for his genial 
temperament, and it needed no index finger to in- 
dicate that to walk with him was to be on the road 
to the sunny clime which lies in the region where 
dwell a happy disposition and a good heart. 


4 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


To Miss Elvira’s annoyance, he inclined some- 
what to carelessness of dress and habit, but his life 
was such a busy one that he scarcely had time to 
think of himself. 

His supply of jollity was inexhaustible, and it 
was sometimes questioned by those who believed 
in the power of mind over matter, whether it was 
not true in many cases that his personal presence 
accomplished quite as much for his patients as his 
drugs. 

His services were in great demand for sick chil- 
dren, as he had a peculiar faculty for controlling 
them. 

That Dr. Snell was a favorite with the little 
folks was also attested by the fact that applications 
for a ride in his gig were numerous, and if he went 
out with a carriage it was a pretty sure indication 
that there was a chance for a load of little people, 
and the doctor seemed to enjoy the fun as much 
as any of the company. 

It was considered strange that he never spoke of 
his wife, and some even went so far as to hint that 
his jollity and habitual cheerfulness indicated that 
he was forgetting her. 

Such people did not know Dr. Snell. 

At heart he still mourned his wife as truly and 
scarcely less keenly than when at first he passed 
through the agonizing experience of taking up the 
life burden and passing on without her; but be- 
cause that was in accordance with his nature and 
also for the sake of others he covered his sorrow 
and manifested only the more cheerful and lively 
side of his nature. 

He had several times been nominated as a candi- 


Dans Introduction to the Reader. 5 

date for both town and county offices, and once 
he was named as eligible for the State Legislature. 
But every honor of this kind he declined on the 
ground that he was too busy with his profession 
to give the requisite attention to anything of the 
kind. 

Over the door of his office w’^as a sign which, 
through three generations of M. D.’s had indicated 
to those afflicted with ills and ails, that Dr. Snell 
was to be consulted with reference to such. 

It was said by those wffio professed to know, that 
this sign was more than one hundred years old, 
but paint and varnish still made it presentable. 


6 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


CHAPTEE IL 

MISS ELVIRA. 

''Man and hooh alike are strange 
Till ivithin the reader's range; 

Till are pierced the binding boards 
Ne'er are shown the secret hoards; 

Shown, we take or let alone. 

Thus it is our choice is known." 

— Edward Vincent. 

"God measures life, not by the distance to which 
the lines of influence or fame are drawn out, but 
by the fidelity found at the center of one's being." 

Elvira Gleason, or Miss Elvira, as she was 
known throughout Burleigh, is well worthy of a 
chapter in our chronicle. 

She was a woman in middle life, tall, thin and 
angular in form, with a face that would have been 
set down as exceedingly plain but for the kindli- 
ness of spirit which looked out from the deep-set 
gray eyes and spread itself over the otherwise un- 
seemly features. 

Her wiry form was capable of great endurance, 
and she accomplished much more in life than many 
of more robust physique. 


Miss Elvira. 


7 


She was strong willed, and although slow in 
reaching conclusions there was little departure 
from her position when firmly taken. 

She was of New England stock, and her prin- 
ciples were of the kind which in these days of 
broad, not to say loose, views, are called rigid, 
strait-laced and Puritanical. 

With her, in morals as in the natural world, 
whatever their seeming, things took on their real 
shapes and native colors. 

Whatever its polish, black was of sable hue, and 
her keen discernment perceived whiteness where 
less charitable minds would have passed it by. 

She said little about religious creeds and would 
have been greatly surprised had one told her that 
she was considered a model of the outworkings of 
correct principles within, but really she was a 
^‘Living epistle^ known and read^^ by many in Bur- 
leigh, to their uplifting and strengthening. 

Some said she lacked in the gentler graces, but 
whether or not this was true, we leave the reader 
to judge as our story proceeds. 

Eough exteriors often cover rare jewels, and nuts 
of choicest kernel are not infrequently hidden 
within burrs so prickly that mankind willingly 
waits the action of chilling frosts to assist them in 
securing the desired treasure. 

Miss Elvira had been a member of Dr. SnelFs 
household from its first establishmient, having 
come with the bride from her childhood^s home, 
where she had held the position of housekeeper. 

In fact, it was she who set the wheels of do- 
mestic machinery in motion in the newly estab- 
lished home in Burleigh, and had ever since seen 


8 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


to it that they continued their steady whir with- 
out friction and without unnecessary waste or wear 
and tear. 

Dr. Snell was not a heartless man, neither was he 
unappreciative of favors rendered, but even he did 
not fully appreciate what Miss Elvira had been to 
him. 

It is not an uncommon experience that one takes 
as his by right the good things of life which come 
to him without effort on his part, and settling down 
to this, scarcely thinks how great their value until 
some adverse life-wind crosses his path, when, 
standing amid wrecks and scattered fragments, he 
begins to realize the difference between what was 
and what is. 

It was Miss Elvira who had lifted the life- 
burdens from the doctor^s frail little wife, and it 
was she who ever since the death of his mother 
had cared for Dan with a kindness which only that 
of a mother could surpass. 

There were those who thought her too strict in 
her management of Dan, but Miss Elvira knew bet- 
ter than they did the mischievous spirit with which 
she had to deal. 

Whatever Dan^s offense, she never paraded it be- 
fore others, even to save herself from censure. 

Unless necessity required telling his father, Dan 
early learned that the Scripture — ^Uo and tell him 
his fault between thee and him alone’^ — was Miss 
Elvira^s rule of action, and that if he did his part 
rightly the matter would be carried no farther. 

The neighbors did not know that the reason why 
Dan had to stay in his room all one bright after- 
noon was because a swear word had sullied his lips, 


Miss Elvira. 


9 


or that no dessert at dinner for a week, followed 
his first and only recorded attempt at open false- 
hood. 

But this was not all. In each case the enormity 
of the offense was, gravely, but kindly stated, and 
Dan never forgot the prayers which were offered 
for him on these two occasions. 

In later years he was heard to remark: ^‘^The 
lessons which Miss Elvira then taught me were for 
life, and both profanity and lying ever afterward 
had for me a horror which prevented any attempt 
toward their indulgence on my part, and I well 
remember that I often wondered that the direct 
punishment of Heaven did not fall upon other boys 
when I heard them use profane oaths.^^ 

Miss Elvira’s supply of patience seemed inex- 
haustible in-so-far as Dan required its exercise, for 
he was alternately her plague and pleasure. 

Since the day that she found him spotting his 
immaculate pinafore with dabs of ink, which 
his baby fingers had succeeded in reaching, to the 
present time, he had given her no end of trouble, 
still she would willingly sacrifice herself to any ex- 
tent rather than have Dan suffer for any needed 
good. 

She watched him through measles and whooping- 
cough with unflagging care, and when in scarlet 
fever even Dr. Snell’s courage failed it was Miss 
Elvira who never gave up hope, and who saw the 
first signs of returning life, and watched him back 
to recovery, while the exhausted father rested, and 
then turned to other patients. 

Without Miss Elvira Dan would have been a 


lO The Poorhouse Lark. 

spoiled child, for his father found it very difficult 
to refuse him anything. 

But realizing his weakness in this direction, Dr. 
Snell often left to Miss Elvira the settlement of 
questions which properly belonged to him. 

Dan learned that on all such occasions when the 
question was settled by Miss Elvira, it was final, 
and no amount of teasing on his part would change 
the decree. 

The following extract from a newspaper poem 
comes nearest to describing Dan : — 

seems to he several hoys m one. 

So much is he constantly everywhere; 

And the mischievous things thai hoy has done 
No mind can rememher or mouth declare. 

He fills the whole of his share of space 
^Yith his strong, straight form and his merry 
face, 

"'He is very cowardly, very hrave; 

He is hind and cruel, is good and had; 

A hrute and a hero. Who will save 

The hest from the worst of my neighbor's lad? 
The mean and the nohle strive to-day; 

Which of the powers will have its way ?" 

In one respect he was considered a prodigy, and 
that was in his knowledge of anatomy and his pas- 
sion for putting this knowledge to practical tests. 

At first Miss Elvira was shocked when, while he 
was still in kilted skirts, she would find him in his 
father^s office amusing himself with a skeleton 
which was within his reach, and once he quite 


Miss Elvira. 


II 


frightened her hy peering his bright, roguish eyes 
through the sightless sockets of a skull which he 
had slyly taken from a table beside which a medical 
student sat, studying. 

He was one of those bright, quick-witted boys 
who are always ready with a response to a remark, 
and but for Miss Elvira^s judicious training, would 
have stood in danger of being spoiled through over- 
much attention. But where the home influences 
are correct there is less danger of outside influ- 
ences and Dan thrived and grew. 


12 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


CHAPTER III. 

A VISIT TO THE POORHOUSE. 

^'From lowest place when virtuous thmgs proceed. 
The place is dignified by the doer's deed." 

— Shakespeare. 

^'And I rose not up to follow. 

So slow was I to see, 

Till the help I might have given. 
Forever fled from me." 

— Adda Nichols. 

^^Sarah Coklts called to see you this morning, 
and said that the little woman at the Poorhouse 
was much worse, and she wanted you to go over 
and see her this afternoon. 

never knew Sarah to show so much interest in 
anyone. 

^^Really, she seems to have a kind heart, though 
she has such a rough way of showing it. Why, the 
tears actually stood in her eyes as she talked about 
that ^poor girl,^ as she called her, and who ever 
heard of Sarah Conlis crying. 

offered her some lemons and some of my 
nicest currant jelly for the sick woman, but she 
said: TPs no use. The time has gone by for 


A Visit to the Poorhouse. 


^3 


fondlin^ an’ pettin’ of her. In season ’twonld have' 
done her all sorts o’ good, but it’s a mighty poor 
plan to leave kindnesses ’till folks can’t make any 
use on ’em. If anybody has got any kind thing to 
say to or any kind thing to do for me I "want ’em 
while I’ve got life enough in me to appreciate ’em. 
That’ll suit me a better than lemons and jelly 
when I’m dyin’, or a pile o’ posies on my coffin, a 
When Jane Auxter’s funeral was, the ladies who 
had posy gardens sent in lots of bouquets, and 
though they were so awful purty that I just hated 
to waste ’em, I heaved ’em all straight out of the 
winder. They’d have done Jane lots o’ good when 
she was livin’, for she just worshipped posies, but 
the women didn’t even like to have her look through 
the fence at ’em then, and it seemed mockery to 
put ’em on her coffin when her eyes were so fast 
shut that she couldn’t seo ’em.’ 

felt real cut up because I hadn’t been over 
and seen the woman, but I’ve been so busy with 
fruit canning and pickling that I haven’t stopped 
to think whether there was a call in any other di- 
rection. I might have gone last Saturday instead 
of washing windows, but I didn’t, and now it’s too 
late, and I suppose that will be registered among 
my lost opportunities.” 

It was Miss Elvira who spoke, and as she fin- 
ished, Dr. Snell asked : ^^Did Sarah say whether the 
woman was conscious ?” 

^^Yes,” replied Miss Elvira, ^^she said, she had 
talked all night about that good-for-nothing hus- 
band of hers, and would only be quiet when the 
little girl sang to her.” 

^AVell, I’ll go over directly after dinner,” said 


14 The Poorhouse Lark. 

Dr. Snelh ^^and if yoll^^e got ar^ything in the house 
that will be likely to be of special nse^ till the bas- 
ket and Idl take it along. Old Mrs. Limes won^t 
be averse to the lemons^ and the jelly will be good 
for old Mrs. Cleton.^^ 

This was not Miss Elvira^s first experience in 
laboring hand in hand with Dr. Snell in the dis- 
pensing of kindly charities, and she filled the 
basket with alacrity. 

She knew from former experience that whatever 
she might send, Sarah Conlis wonld distribute 
judiciously among the inmates of the Poorhouse. 
The package ot best Japan tea she felt tolerably 
certain would go to old Mrs. Dobson, and the 
cookies to bedridden Miss Tines. The cotton ban- 
danna which she had purchased with some other 
things at an auction sale, on the previous day, 
would make glad the heart of an imbecile named 
Harding, and Crazy Luce would mutter in happy 
content for a week, because someone had thought 
enough of her to send her a bright ribbon. She 
w^'enld have sent something to little Yailette, the 
daughter of the sick woman referred to, but Dan’s 
overfilled pockets told her that an act that kind 
was quite unnecessary on her part, as the child was 
doubtless provided for, Dan having heard the con- 
versation between herself and Dr. Snell. Hur- 
rying through his dinner, he darted off to his play- 
room, and soon returned with bulging pockets 
and a face which said : have a secret which I am 
quite competent to keep, and with which no one is 
to interfere.’’ 

Something else was indicated by the alacrity 
with which Dan entered into the project conceived 


A Visit to the Poorhouse. 15 

by his elders, and this was that through the power 
of nnconscioiTS influence, his young heart was 
drinking in the spirit of charity which would be- 
come incorporated into the motives which would 
work themselves out in his life. 

Thus it is in life — one soul touches another soul, 
silently, unconsciously it may be, and yet the seed 
of good or ill is sown which shall yield an unend- 
ing harvest. 

Dan was always sure of a welcome when he chose » 
to take a seat beside his father in his professional 
''gig-'' 

Dan was often his father’s companion when he 
made professional visits, and he seldom missed an 
opportunity to visit the Poorhouse, consequently 
the fact that he stood beside the well-filled basket 
when the doctor drove up, attracted no special at- 
tention. 

Dr. Snell often wondered why a child should 
care to visit that forlorn place, where even his own 
heart was pained at sights and sounds, but he kept 
these thoughts to himself, careful the meantime 
that only those phases of life be presented to Dan 
which would tcdch him sympathy for suffering and 
sorrow, without filling his young heart with the 
knowledge of the darker phases of evil which asso- 
ciated themselves with the histories of many of 
the inmates of this institution. 

The visit of Dr. Snell and Dan seemed an event 
at the Poorhouse, and it was difficult to tell which 
one received more marked attention. 

As they drove up they were met by a gray-haired, 
hunch-backed old man in blue overalls and shirt 
sleeves, who doffed his palm leaf hat with a strik- 


l6 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


ing attempt at courtesy, and grinned foolishly as 
he held ont his hands to help Dan alight — a quite 
unnecessary act, as Dan had long considered him- 
self competent to reach the ground on such occa- 
sions without help. 

^^Good afternoon, Mr. Harding! How are the 
com and potatoes looking to-day, and who takes 
care of the chickens while you are here to wait on 
us said Dr. Snell. 

Another grin more striking than the first was 
the only response as the person addressed made Dan 
his willing captive, and hurried him off to the fowl 
yard, where, there was little doubt. Dr. Snell would 
find him when he was ready to start homeward. 

An old man with two crutches, known as Uncle 
Zeik, came forward as fast as circumstances would 
permit, to fasten Dr. Snelhs horse to the hitching 
post, and the doctor, with medicine case in hand, 
passed up the walk and disappeared within the 
house. 

This institution had not been in good repute, but 
of late the county authorities had taken the matter 
seriously in charge, and a better state of things 
was prevailing. The lawn in front of the build- 
ings was closely mown, the garden was well kept, 
and the farm of several acres which belonged to the 
institution was doing more toward defraying ex- 
penses than it had ever done before. 

But of all who had to do in this matter, the 
new matron, Sarah Conlis, was the supreme power, 
which fact was acknowledged even by the county 
authorities, and they took to themselves much 
credit for their discernment in making so wise a 
choice. 


A Visit to the Poorhouse. 17 

Though there were others who stood higher in 
authority her word was law; not so much because 
she sought to make it so, as on account of her 
clear, keen judgment, her force of will, her execu- 
tive ability combined with large power of control, 
and last but not least, her kindness of heart. 

She was about forty years of age, tall, and 
stoutly built. 

She was of rough exterior, knew little of books, 
but she was a keen student of human nature, and 
many of her remarks were so pithy, and contained 
so much practical common sense, that she came to 
be often quoted by those who knew her. 

She met Dr. Snell at the door, and conducted 
him at once to the room of his patient. 

Here upon a low cot lay a woman, not more than 
twenty-five years of age, in the last stages of con- 
sumption. 

Evidently she had been handsome, but the beau- 
tiful fiush which once tinged her well-rounded 
cheeks had been exchanged for the hectic flush 
v;hieh marks consumption's hold. Her black, lus- 
trous eyes were sunken and their telling power was 
fast being exchanged for the glaze with which 
Death sets his seal. 

As the doctor neared the room he heard a child’s 
voice singing, and he was not surprised when on 
entering he saw little Vailette seated on the cot 
close beside her mother. 

The child seemed a reproduction of what the 
mother might have been in earlier days. She had 
the same black, lustrous eyes and raven hair, and 
her baby face was striking in its beauty. 

Neither of the inmates of the room noticed the 


i8 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


doctor^s entrance at first, for the eyes of the 
mother were closed, and the child was lost in her 
song. So the latter sang on, her head, with its pro- 
fusion of tangled curls, thrown slightly back, and 
her red lips pouring forth sweet, childish accents. 

The meantime the child clasped the mother’s 
hand and now and then paused to say, ^^You feel 
better now, don’t you, mamma ?” 

It was not strange that tears came into the 
good doctor’s eyes, as he witnessed this scene, 
neither was it strange to those who understood the 
case, that the moment Yailette saw Dr. Snell, she 
quietly slipped from the bed and was soon clasped 
in his arms. 

Her first words were, ^^Did Dan come ?” and be- 
ing answered in the affirmative, she was off in a 
twinkling to the fowl yard, where, as by instinct 
she divined that she should find the object of her 
search. 


How Dan Obtained His Title. 


19 


CHAPTEK IV. 

HOW DAH OBTAINED HIS TITLE. 

^'TJiou canst not Jcnow in which of the many 
houses by which thou passest daily, a future bene- 
factor may not have been reared for thee/' 

— George Ebers. 

Vailette’s arrival was announced by the call, 
^‘^Dan, Dan!^^ to which there was no response, as 
Dan and Harding were in a fowl-house at the side 
of the yard farthest from the entrance, and the 
childish voice did not reach them. 

Then imperiously came the call: ^^Harding, let 
me in, I say,^^ accompanied by a vigorous tugging 
at the door, which was fastened on the inside. 

The lack of success which marked her efforts did 
not please the young miss, who set up a most de- 
cided howl, accompanied by a kicking which was 
equal to the natural force of her tiny foot, plus a 
large supply of what is usually recognized in little 
people as ^^spunk.’^ 

Her case still pro\dng hopeless, she cast about 
in her mind for another way of accomplishing her 
purpose, and hit upon a happy expedient. 

Appropriating an empty chicken coop which 
stood by the door of the yard, from it she mounted 


20 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


a post from whicli she felt no fear in jumping to 
the ground within the enclosure, having performed 
this feat many times when at her command Hard- 
ing had placed her in that elevated position. 

Having mounted the post she stood looking first 
in this direction and then in that, as if to catch 
sight of the object of her search. 

She formed a striking picture as she stood in a 
position which would have answered admirably had 
she been posing at the suggestion of an artist. 

Her little form was straight as an arrow, except 
as her head was thrown slightly backward and to 
one side in a listening attitude. Her tangled hair 
stood out in every direction as though by natural 
impulse it had sought vigorously to curl in spite 
of the constant movements of the restless little 
head. 

She wore an old, faded calico dress, which would 
have seemed much too short but for the comeliness 
of her nut-brown legs and feet, and her elbows had 
long since rendered the tight sleeves unsightly 
through the ever-increasing holes. 

Keeping quiet, even to listen, was not Vailette’s 
habit for long, and she shouted as before, with the 
same result. 

Vexation now became apparent, for Yailette was 
seldom pleased with anything that crossed her 
wishes, and with a vigorous spring she landed on 
the ground within the yard. 

This leap she had taken many times before, but 
never with the same result as now. Her dress 
caught on a nail and she fell, striking on her hand 
and arm in such a way as to throw her right elbow 
out of joint. 


How Dan Obtained His Title* 21 

Her cry of mingled pain, fright and anger rose 
sufficiently high above the combined voices of chick- 
ens, turkeys and ducks to bring both Harding and 
Dan to the rescue, for Yailette was a great favor- 
ite with both, and ordinarily had but to call, or at 
least to give one of her imperious orders to re- 
ceive any required amount of attention from 
either. 

How the two vied with each other in trying to 
learn what was the matter, and after a time she 
ceased her loud cries sufficiently to direct attention 
to her arm, which hung limp and bare at her side, 
the ragged sleeve having been torn from wrist to 
shoulder in her fall. 

Such cases were not unfamiliar to Dan, who at 
once recognized the fact that her elbow was out of 
joint, and having on the previous day carefully 
watched his father while he performed an operation 
similar to the one which he saw was now required, 
he seized the injured arm, and before Vailette had 
time to collect her thoughts, slipped the dislocated 
bone back into place. 

The pain which she suffered was too much for the 
excited Vailette, and as soon as she recovered the 
use of her arm she gave Dan a blow in the face 
which sent him reeling backward until he fell flat 
on the ground. 

Vailette’s cries, which could have been heard 
to a much greater distance, brought Dr. Snell from 
the house, and when he took in the situation he 
laughed heartily, much to the discomfiture of Dan. 

Father-like, Dr. Snell was not a little proud of 
the part which Dan had taken in this performance, 


22 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


and as he mentioned it the story soon made the 
circuit of the town. 

This was the origin of the title, Dr. Dan, a title 
which lasted a life-time, and of which the owner, 
in after years, proved himself most worthy. 





Crazy Luce. 


23 


CHAPTEE V. 

CRAZY LUCE. 

"'My way of life 

Is fallen into the sere, the yellow leaf 
And that which should accompany old age. 

As honor, love, obedience, troops of friends, 

I must not look to have; hut in their stead 
Curses, not loud, hut deep, mouth-honor, hreath. 
Which the poor heart would fain deny, hut dare 
notr 

— Shakespeare. 

''The alms most precious man can give to man 
Are hind and loving words. Nor come amiss 
Warm, sympathizing tears to eyes that scan 
The ivorld aright: the only error is 
Neglect to do the little good we can/' 

Crazy Luce had been an inmate of the Poor- 
house for many years. She was sent to its in- 
sane department from an institution where her 
case had been pronounced incurable, and as that 
term had never ceased to be appropriate, she had 
stayed on from year to year, until both herself and 
others interested seemed to consider her a part of 
the institution. 


24 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


Time had been when her expenses had been reg- 
ularly paid by interested parties, but the death-roll 
of the years had laid such, claim upon these, and 
also upon her small store of funds, that she was 
now at the mercy of public charity. 

She entered Burleigh as a stranger, and as for 
a long time she did not pass beyond the Poorhouse 
limits, her history was little known. 

Ordinarily she insisted that her age was thirty 
years, and it was only at specially lucid intervals 
that she would admit that it was the legitimate 
action of time that had whitened her hair, and 
placed wrinkles on her once fair forehead, for, like 
many who claim full use of their faculties, she 
shrank from age, and sought, if not to be always 
young, at least to remain in the border-land be- 
tween youth and age. 

Hers was an attractive face but for the wild look 
which sometimes dwelt in the gray eyes. But even 
this could scarcely prevent the stranger from not- 
ing the contrast between this face and those by 
which it was surrounded. 

Crazy Luce had not been long in the Poor- 
house before it became apparent to the matron in 
charge that her insanity was of a harmless t5rpe, 
and by degrees she came to be allowed much lib- 
erty. This liberty she seemed in no way disposed 
to abuse, but used it rather for the good of those 
who seemed to be in need of any service which she 
could render. When well enough to act in that 
capacity, she was an jexcellent nurse, and many a 
pauper had Crazy Luce to thank for such kindly 
ministries as would scarcely have fallen to his lot 
had he not come within the limits of her ministry. 


25 


Crazy Luce. 

Being nervous and restless, Crazy Luce seldom 
confined herself to one place long at a time. Dur- 
ing the warm weather she was allowed to roam at 
will over the country, and in time, as she became 
generally known, there were few houses on her ac- 
customed routes whose doors were not open to her, 
and where she was not permitted to remain during 
the short stay that her restless nature permitted. 

She was passionately fond of little children, and 
seemed to possess a peculiar fascination for them. 

It was said of her that she could quiet a sick 
child when the mother had given up in despair, 
and her arms seemed tireless when they pressed a 
baby form. 

One of the peculiarities which marked her aber- 
ration of mind, was her style of dress, which was 
always fanciful, and varied with each rising and 
setting sun. 

The wonder was how she managed to obtain such 
a variety of costumes; but the mystery was ex- 
plained by the fact that in the homes of well-to-do 
people, where she was in the habit of calling, and 
where she often made herself useful in one way or 
another, many a half-worn garment was laid aside 
for her use, and during the winter months, when 
she was shut in by cold and snow, if there were no 
sick to he attended, her once skilled fingers still 
asserted their cunning through getting up cos- 
tumes which, at least, possessed the peculiarity of 
being striking, if not strictly in accord with the 
prescribed rules of the leaders of fashion. 

Now and then a lady, thinking to please her, 
would offer her a fashion sheet, but from these she 


26 


The Poorliouse Lark. 


turned with a disdain which said plainly: I am 
quite sufficient for such things. 

She was wild with delight over a piece of bright 
ribbon or a bit of dainty lace, and her hats were 
marvels, if not of taste, at least of oddity. 

Another of Crazy Luce^s peculiarities was that 
whererver she went she always carried in her arms 
a large doll made of an old shawl, vffiich she cher- 
ished with unceasing care and consideration. 

Once, at Christmas time, a lady sought to super- 
sede the old rag doll with a handsomely dressed 
wax one of nearly the same size, but her success was 
only partial. The handsome clothes were trans- 
ferred to the old doll, and the wax figure passed 
into oblivion. 

Both Yailette and her mother had cause to thank 
God for their having come within the limits of 
Crazy Luce’s ministry. She took both under her 
special supervision, and the matron gladly ac- 
quiesced in this plan, for she saw that both would 
require more care than she had time to give. The 
hectic fiush on the cheek of the mother told her 
that she would soon be dependent on just such 
ministry as Crazy Luce could render, and she knew 
that the child would be kindly treated so long as 
she was under her supervision. 

Sarah Conlis had a large vein of curiosity in 
her make-up, and the histories of most of the in- 
mates of the Poorhouse were well known to her, 
but here was a case which baffled her most persist- 
ent attempts at history reading. Etholine MeCrae 
kept her own counsel, and Yailette was too young 
to give information. The parties had appeared 
upon the scene in the legitimate way, and the 


27 


Crazy Luce. 

matron had but to stifle her curiosity and watch 
for indications which should give her the desired 
clue. 

ISTo one suspected that Crazy Luce had known 
their whole history, and that it v/as she who, in her 
wanderings, met Mrs. McCrae, and, seeing her 
desolate condition, had induced her to come where 
she could care for her. 

Etholine McCrae did just what many women 
have done, both before and since her time. They 
form an ideal, which ideal usually corresponds 
largely in tone with their own characters. 

They invest some man with this ideal and then 
worship. 

They think they worship the man, but really 
they worship the ideal. 

If the man be worthy of the ideal with which 
he is invested — well. But if he be unworthy, 
sooner or later, the awakening to this fact is likely 
to come to the worshipper, and bring in its train 
disappointment and sorrow. 

Etholine’s awakening came when a year from the 
date of her marriage she found that she was worse 
than widowed, and that henceforth she had only 
herself to look to for her own support and that of 
a beautiful baby girl, whose bright eyes opened 
upon a world which seemed to promise her little 
except a heritage of sorrow. Nevertheless, little 
Vailette thrived and grew, bringing joy to the 
otherwise desolate heart of the young mother. 

Had the health of the latter been sufficient, she 
would bravely have lived through all, out of love 
for the child, for she was of strong will-power, and 
pride was her dominant passion. 


28 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


But disease, which saps the life, will make the 
stoutest natures quail, and humble pride with ter- 
rible power; and this it did for her, until she was 
glad to be led by Crazy Luce anywhere where she 
could be cared for, and be sure that little Vailette 
was not suffering for necessities. 

Vailette soon became a great favorite through- 
out the institution. Her beauty won attention, 
and her bright, piquant ways were most attractive. 
Passing strangers wondered to see such a child in 
such a place, and one of those individuals who are 
more given to criticising Providence than to lend- 
ing a helping hand, remarked on the strange Provi- 
dence which left this innocent child to mingle with 
such associates. 

His own home was childless, and his coffers over- 
flowed with that which would have placed the child 
amid better surroundings, but he contented him-' 
self with a passing remark, while, like the 
priest and the Levite of old, he passed by on the 
other side. 

Evidently he cared little, but he knew naught of 
the kindly Providence in store for the child, or that 
though she learned it through the treading of de- 
vious ways, she would in later years acknowledge 
with deepest gratitude the leadings of the Provi- 
dential hand. 

God’s dealings are not unmasked to gratify the 
curiosity of the carping critic, but to the believing, 
willing soul, what to others may seem a dark 
mystery, may be one of the ^^all things’’ which 
^Vork together for good to them that love God."^ 

One striking characteristic of Vailette’s was her 
love of music and her talent in that direction. 


29 


Crazy Luce 

She sang from morning till night, and for this 
reason came to he known as the Poorhouse Lark. 
She possessed a voice of rare sweetness and of nn- 
nsnal power in one so young, and it was not un- 
usual for passers-by to pause and listen to her 
songs. 

When this occurred it pleased Yailette, who 
never suffered from diffidence, and was ready to 
sing as much as was desired. 

It was Vailette’s voice that was last in the ears 
of the dying mother, but it was Crazy Luce who 
quieted the passionate sobs which no one else could 
stay as the coffin lid shut the mother from human 
sight. 


30 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


CHAPTER VI. 

THE SOLUTION OF A PROBLEM. 

^'Are not jive sparrows sold for two farthings ? 

And one of them shall 7wt fall on the ground 
without your Father/' 

One day Dr. Snell was driving in the direction 
of the Poorhouse. 

The lofty-headed, high-stepping Prince, who 
usually trod the earth as though his dainty feet 
despised its touch, and rushed along at a pace 
which indicated knowledge of the need of his mas- 
ters immediate presence, now trotted along like 
some old farm horse, and was not reproved either 
by a suggestive chirrup or the drawing of the rein, 
on the part of his master. 

Dr. Snell was in the depths of an important 
brown study, and other considerations had for the 
time passed from his mind. 

Ever since he had known little Yailette, she had 
possessed a peculiar attraction for him. He never 
felt her clinging arms about his neck, that he did 
not wish she were his to keep, and now that 
the mother was dead, and Vailette thrown on cold 
charity, why not take her to his home and let her 
share with Dan in its kindly ministries ? 


The Solution of a Problem. 31 

The reason why was a momentous one. 

Miss Elvira had too long stood at the head of 
his household to he consi&red a non-important 
factor ; and that was where the trouble lay. 

To Dan Miss Elvira had been all that a father 
could ask her to be, but Dr. Snell well knew that 
her partiality for children extended no further. 

hie also recognized the fact that she was con- 
scientious to the last degree, and knew that if Yail- 
ette was once in her charge she would leave no 
stone unturned in the discharge of duty toward 
her. 

But to the loving heart of Dr. Snell duty was 
not enough. 

He knew that the child bereft of its mother 
would pine for mother-love, and would it be right 
to place her where this might be denied ? But the 
pleadings of his own heart were a mighty power, 
and he knew that Dan would join him, heart and 
hand. 

Surely he could give her a better home than her 
present one, and who knew where she might be 
sent if he did not? 

But how to bring it about — that was the ques- 
tion. 

As he neared the Poorhouse the doctor saw Crazy 
Luce and Vailette approaching. 


32 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


CHAPTEE VII. 

HISS Elvira’s struggle, i 

** Battlefields are not alone where cannons roar, 
nor are battles confined to the use of firearms, or 
the wieldmg of stvords/^ 

To say that Miss Elvira was pleased when Dr. 
Snell stated his intention to make Yailette a mem- 
ber of his household, would not he true, for she was 
far from it. She brought forward a list of argu- 
ments which quite astonished the good doctor as 
regarded their number, and what impressed his 
masculine mind as their weakness. 

The suggestion that Dan would be demoralized 
through association with Poorhouse trash, he met 
with the response that if Dan became a physician, 
as his present tendencies indicated, he would have 
to come into contact with life in its various phases, 
and being the older of the two, and under such a 
good system of home training, he thought he would 
be able to survive any untoward influences that 
might be brought to bear upon him in the present 
case. 

That was a master stroke on the part of the poli- 
tic Dr. Snell, and his cause was already more than 
half won. 


33 


Miss Elvira’s Struggle. 

He was not given to flattering compliments, as 
Miss Elvira well knew, and nothing pleased her 
better than to hear from his lips a word of com- 
mendation concerning her method of training Dan. 
It was scarcely necessary for him to answer her 
further arguments, but he proceeded : ^^And as to 
Dan’s toys, I have noted in him a tendency toward 
selfishness, and have long wished that he were re- 
quired to share his good things with someone 
else.” 

But what touched Miss Elvira most deeply was 
the doctor’s reference to the mother’s parting from 
the child, and his pathetic allusion to the condition 
of a child left to the tender mercies of the world’s 
cold charity. 

As doubtless Dr. Snell had done many times, she 
went back to another death scene, where a little 
one was left motherless, and she thought, what if 
Dan had been left to Poorhouse charity. 

Then, too, she had never ceased to blame herself 
for not having shown more interest in the case be- 
fore the death of the mother, and Sarah Conlis’ 
words still rang in her ears — ^Tt’s a mighty poor 
plan to leave kindnesses ’till folks can’t make any 
use of ’em. If anybody has got any kind thing to 
say to, or any kind thing to do for me, I want ’em 
while I’ve got life enough in me to appreciate ’em. 
That’ll suit me better than lemons and jelly when 
I’m dyin’, or a pile o’ posies on my coffin.” 

All things considered, she felt in duty bound to 
say, by way of concluding the conversation: 
^^Well, if you think best to bring her here. I’ll not 
stand in her way, but I hope you’ll never have oc- 
casion to regret it on Dan’s account.” 


34 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


Dr. Snell never knew of the battle that went on 
in Miss Elvira^s soul that night — how she went 
down into its depths, and with strong crying unto 
God, battled with the powers of selfishness within, 
and sought willingness to obey the stern though 
unwelcome decrees of present duty. 

The neighbors wondered when next day Miss El- 
vira seemed to awaken to a spasmodic attack of 
house-cleaning, and as she was usually most sys- 
tematic, and had great regard for times and sea- 
sons, this attracted the greater attention. 

The windows of the north chamber, which had 
been kept closely curtained ever since the death 
of Mrs. Snell, were thrown open, and those on the 
watch felt sure that a painter and two paper hang- 
ers were at work there. 

IN’one knew the emotions which filled her heart 
as she draped the windows with dainty lace cur- 
tains and gave the last pat to the bed with its 
snowy counterpane. But she, herself, found that 
with this new desire to do God’s will, which evi- 
denced itself in these active efforts, a new interest 
in the little stranger was beginning to spring up 
within her, and she was happier for the experience. 

’Twas a little thing, but a beaded heart which 
was laid by with care thirty years previous, was 
brought out and placed on the mantel, and a 
Parian marble vase, which had scarcely known 
use since her girlhood, was placed on a bracket 
where a child could fill it with flowers. 

Had she known the child better, we question 
whether the costly vase would have been placed 
quite so low, or the beaded heart have been put 
where it would so soon serve as an ornament for the 


35 


Miss Elvira’s Struggle. 

neck of Tiger. But Miss Elvira had made her 
self-surrender to duty complete, and she wished to 
evidence this to herself by a willingness which 
leaned toward the happiness of others. It had 
pleased Dr. Snell well — the alacrity with which 
Miss Elvira set about the carrying out of his wishes 
concerning Vailette, and he purposed that if he 
could prevent it, she should not for long regret the 
coming of the child. 

With more than his usual forethought, he had 
prepared for this at the outset by taking the child 
to one interested in such matters and requesting 
her to supply the complete outfit necessary for such 
a child, so that Miss Elvira have no trouble in that 
direction. 

Miss Elvira, who had never seen Vailette, and 
expected to receive her just as she came from the 
Poorhouse, was greatly surprised when, one even- 
ing, Dr. Snell and Dan drove up to the door with a 
child corresponding not at all with her precon- 
ceived opinions. There was no need of the bath- 
tub, which she had in readiness, and comb and 
brush might wait until they were needed, for the 
shining curls were in perfect order now. 

Dr. Snell greatly enjoyed Miss Elvira’s surprise 
at the unexpected vision of beauty before her, for 
Yailette was certainly a pretty picture, with her 
light, fur-trimmed cloak and a jaunty little hat 
that set off her pretty face most becomingly. 

The child showed no embarrassment as she re- 
turned the cool, scrutinizing gaze of Miss Elvira, 
but suddenly turning from her she threw her arms 
around Dr. Snell’s neck and burst into tears. 

Ah I even baby hearts detect love notes, and it is 


36 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


a credit to any man to be worthy of this recognition 
through this instinct of childhood. 

He who uttered the phrase : ^^Love God and little 
children/^ must himself have drunk deep at the 
pure fountain, and those who in its true spirit 
carry out this principle, know of that refinement of 
soul to which we instinctively bow as being worthy 
of ; ^^Of such is the kingdom of Heaven.^^ 


First Impression. 


37 


CHAPTEE VIII. 

FIRST IMPRESSIONS. 

^^Let this mind he in you which was also in 
Christ Jesus/' — Phil. 2, 5. 

When Yailette made her first appearance before 
Miss Elvira, the latter individual would scarcely 
have been more astonished had she come furnished 
with wings or mounted on a chariot. 

The practical woman expected to see a dirty, 
ragged child, hut to one thing she had made up her 
mind. She would do her duty by the pauper child. 
ISTo one should say of her that she had in any way 
proved neglectful in this respect, and she would 
divest her conscience of all power of reproach, if 
in later years the child departed from the way in 
which she should go. 

She was not responsible for inherited tendencies, 
and who knew from what vile stock the child might 
have sprung. 

From Sarah Conlis’ account the mother seemed 
to be well disposed, but she had her own opinion 
of a man that would leave his wife and child to 
shirk for themselves while he gallivanted off, no- 
body knew where. 

She worked herself up into quite a state of mind 
in trying to recall a single instance within her 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


38 

range of observation where a child with similar 
antecedents had turned out well eventually. Then 
she tried to think of some passage of Scripture 
with which to confirm her theories, and establish 
her reasoning, and felt somewhat irritated because 
the only one which came to her mind was : 

^‘^Take heed that ye despise not one of these little 
ones: for I say unto you that in Heaven the 
angels do always behold the face of my Father 
which is in Heaven.^^ 

Visiting the iniquities of the fathers upon the 
children.^^ — That was much more to her mind, and 
it was just what she was in spirit prepared to do 
with the little stranger. 

Miss Elvira^s is not an exceptional case. There 
are many like her — strong characters in many di- 
rections, and w^ho are therefore set down by others, 
and consider themselves strong as a whole; but 
whose castle has really some vulnerable point, 
where without trouble the enemy gains undisputed 
entrance. 

She was self-centered and lacking in that broad 
charity which makes every man a brother, and 
opens up the heart in responsive sympathy, wher- 
ever the wail of humanity^s woes is sounded. 

She had given the best years of her life in de- 
voted service in ihe family of Dr. Snell, and had 
done this uncomplainingly. 

Her present service was a most willing one for 
her heart was bound up in Dan. 

She had also helped Dr. Snell to dispense char- 
ities in what she considered deserving cases. 

But how could she, who came of a good family, 
and had, ever since she was old enough, worked for 


39 


First Impressions. 

lier own bread, be expected to devote herself in 
later life to the bringing up of a child with such a 
history as the one in question? 

How could the Eedeemer of men leave the bosom 
of the Father and taking up the burden of man^s 
sin and woe, pass up the hill Calvary to the cross of 
sacrifice ? 

When Vailette tripped in, accompanied by Dr. 
Snell, Miss Elvira could scarcely believe her eyes, 
though in general she prided herself on the ac- 
curacy of knowledge gained through the medium 
of those organs. 

The lady who had prepared Yailette’s ward- 
robe and dressed her for this occasion at Dr. SnelFs 
suggestion had done her part well, and the child 
was a vision of beauty. 

The two were laughing and talking as they came 
through the hall and stood in the sitting-room door, 
Vailette clasping Dr. SnelTs hand, while it was 
difficult to tell which was having the best time or 
making the most noise. 

^^Well, Miss Elvira, weVe come, and here^s Vail- 
ette,^^ said Dr. Snell, as he led the child forward. 

Miss Elvira would have scorned to be impolite, 
even to a pauper, but she was so astounded at the 
unexpected state of things that she stood stock still, 
and her fact v/as a study. 

The expression of calm, studied civility and dig- 
nified condescending benignity with which she in- 
tended to receive the company, was suddenly 
changed to a most comical one of mingled astonish- 
ment and chagrin. 

Her theories on which she had prided herself an 
hour before, shrank considerably in their dimen- 


40 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


sions, and her heart that hour took in a new lesson 
to the effect that a certain amount of respect may 
be due, even to a pauper child. 

Vailette, on her part, could scarcely have made 
a better beginning with Miss Elvira, than to have 
done just what she did, and would do under any 
circumstances — ^be her natural self and act in ac- 
cordance with the promptings of her heart. 

Miss Elvira never forgot the lesson learned on 
that occasion. She felt instinctively that she had 
made a mistake. 

It wounded her pride to see the child turn from 
her. 

Another suggestion in this direction came as Dr. 
Snell led Vailette to her seat beside M!iss Elvira 
at the supper table. 

Scarcely realizing what she did. Miss Elvira had 
placed Dan^s plate unusually near her own as she 
arranged the supper table that evening. Dan’s 
place was on her right, and she arranged for Yail- 
ette on her left, at what would naturally be the 
proper distance. 

Apparently Vailette had taken in the situation 
at a glance, and had decided upon her course of 
action with equal quickness. 

Instead of taking her seat quietly beside Miss 
Elvira, as she was expected to do, as soon as Dr. 
Snell was seated on the opposite side of the table, 
she seized her plate, knife and fork, and calmly 
placed them beside those of her benefactor. 

Then, returning for her chair, she deliberately 
seated herself in her new position with an air which 
said : am not only here, but am come to stay/' 

and stay she did. 


The Teardrop. 


41 


CHAPTER IX. 

THE TEARDROP. 

**Wlien once a firm resolve is mad& 

Full half the battle's won." 

The lack of restraint which had always charac- 
terized the life of Yailette, did not make her an 
easy subject for government on the part of Miss 
Elvira. 

Like others who had none of their own, Miss 
Elvira had most decided theories on the govern- 
ment of children. 

As she had always had the care of Dan, and 
also as Dan was of a nature to be easily controlled, 
she had had little trouble with him, and she flat- 
tered herself considerably on the working out of 
these theories. 

But with Dan, her practical knowledge of child- 
nature ended, and she did not realize that her pet 
system might have to adapt itself to circumstances 
in other cases than Dan^s. 

In short. Miss Elvira lacked that tact which 
enables one through seeing the needs of different 
natures to adapt himself to each, and through vary- 
ing his methods, and giving to each his proper por- 


42 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


tion in due season, thns makes himself master, and 
controls where another wonld utterly fail. 

Dan and Vailette were very unlike in their na- 
tures, and would require a different holding of the 
reins of government. 

Dan was demonstratively affectionate — fond of 
everybody that was kind to him. 

Yailette’s affection, though strong and absorb- 
ing, lay deeply hidden within her heart. She 
would have fewer friends than Dan, but those to 
whom she really gave her friendship, would have 
little to complain of by way of inconstancy. 

Dan was soon angry and as soon over it, while 
Yailette held a grudge as does a dog his cherished 
bone. 

Dan would take the world of mankind to be as 
good natured and honest as himself, while Yail- 
ette would study more its various features, and be 
less likely to be ^ffaken in.^^ 

Yailette possessed in marked degree that intu- 
ition which is so marked in some children, of read- 
ing people, and we have seen she did not fail to 
recognize the difference in their positions with re- 
gard to her, of Dr. Snell and Miss Elvira. 

When bedtime came, on the evening of her first 
arrival, she gave the former a clinging, good-night 
kiss, but declined even to say good-night to fhe 
latter, and could hardly be induced by her to say 
her prayers, an enormous indication of depravity 
on her part, in the eyes of good Miss Elvira. 

But one thing had pleased Miss Elvira much. 

When she took Yailette to her room the child 
paused at the open door and with delight plainly 
indicated on her face, looked around with the ex- 


43 


The Teardrop. 

clamation : oh V’ Then in quick survey she 

took in the room in its various appointments, not 
omitting the beaded heart, and though she uttered 
not another word. Miss Elvira felt that the sigh 
which she drew was one of intense satisfaction. 

After the children had retired, there was a 
long conversation that night between Dr. Snell and 
Miss Elvira — the former telling the latter all the 
facts which he had been able to gather concerning 
Vailette’s history. He said that Sarah Conlis felt 
(tolerably) sure that her father was living, though 
as to where he was she had no idea. Sarah also said 
that once in her delirium Mrs. McCrae had spoken 
of her father and mother, and had rambled on 
about sitting on the piazza and looking out over 
the meadows, but whether that meant anything or 
was only the result of a disordered imagination, 
she did not know. 

Once Sarah had heard Mrs. McCrae say to 
Crazy Luce: ^^They know nothing about Vailette,^^ 
but, said the doctor, ^^Sarah concluded, with the 
remark: ‘^Say what I would, I could get nothing 
out of her concerning her history.^ 

It was the wish of Dr. Snell that as little as pos- 
sible of this be known in Burleigh, and he knew 
that Miss Elvira would be just the one to further 
his cause. The curious might question her all day 
and be no wiser at night than when they com- 
menced, except in so far as she chose to be com- 
municative. 

One thing troubled Dr. Snell. He had watched 
Vvdth much interest the meeting between Miss El- 
vira and Yailette, and saw at once that it was not 
all he could have wished, 


44 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


He understood both, saw where the trouble lay, 
and trusted to time to make the matter right. 

That night when Miss Elvira went to her room, 
she paused as was her custom at Dan^s door to see 
if all was right with her favorite, and then to ease 
her conscience, she also looked in upon the 
stranger. 

As she stood beside the little sleeper she was 
struck by her beauty, even more than she had been 
at first. 

Except for the fiush on lips and cheeks, her face 
looked like marble in the gaslight, and the way in 
which her curls were thrown back upon the pillow 
reminded Miss Elvira of haloed pictures, which 
she held in great veneration. 

One chubby hand was under her cheek and in the 
other was closely clasped the precious vase which 
Miss Elvira had cherished for so many years. 

To Miss Elvira it seemed akin to sacrilege to 
see that vase in the hand of a pauper child, and 
regretting the sacrifice which she had made in 
placing it in the room, she stooped to take it from 
the little hand, but ere she had touched it she 
changed her mind. 

On the marble-like cheek, a teardrop glistened, 
and as she looked, Vailette roused partially, and 
the word ‘^Mamma^^ came pathetically from her 
lips. 

God works through agencies to accomplish his 
designs, and one word and a teardrop accomplished 
their mission that night. 

They led to the revealing of Miss Elvira to her- 
self as nothing had ever done before. She stood 
at the bar of her own conscience and quailed before 


45 


The Teardrop. 

the sternness of its penetrating queries. Had she 
not despised one of ^od’s little ones and rebelled 
against duty when it was presented to her in plain- 
est form? What right had she to say unto God: 
^^This one of thy little ones I will love and cherish, 
but the other shall be unto me as the filth and 
olfscouring of the earth/^ when both might be alike 
precious unto the Heavenly Father ? 

Tears were on Miss Elvira^s cheeks now, tears of 
real contrition, and with her prayer that night 
there mingled a firm resolve which took in more 
than duty, and which promised well for her future 
relations with Vailette. 

That this self-abnegation w'as genuine, began to 
be evidenced next morning as Miss Elvira prepared 
the breakfast table. 

Truth was, she was greatly incensed when Vail- 
ette indicated so plainly that she had not made a 
pleasant impression upon her and had shown such 
a decided preference for the society of Dr. Snell. 

But that feeling was all gone now, and she 
placed the little plate beside that of the doctor 
with no lurking emotion of bitterness. 

She also took pains to select for Vailette an in- 
dividual butter plate, exactly like Dan’s, and 
brought out for her use a little china cup which 
she highly prized because Dan had given it to her 
on the previous Christmas. 

When breakfast getting had reached the stage 
where she could leave the kitchen, according to her 
usual custom she went to call Dan, and the calling 
included Vailette. 

The latter was still sleeping, but opened her 
eyes just as Miss Elvira came up to the bed; at 


46 


The Poorhouse Lark, 


first with a dazed, startled look and then as she 
recognized her caller she turned away her head 
and buried her face in the pillow. 

A cheerful ^^good morning^^ from Miss Elvira 
met with no response, and the speaker continued : 
^^Dr. Snell is ready for breakfast and wants some 
children to come and eat with him, and I wonder 
whether you or Dan will be there first.^^ 

That proved a well directed effort. Yailette 
sprang out of bed in a twinkling and was quite as 
much in a hurry as Miss Elvira desired to com- 
plete her toilet and get downstairs. 

At the top of the stairs she met Dan, and then 
there occurred a race and a scramble to see who 
should first reach Dr. Snell who stood at the foot 
of the stairs with extended arms, and entered into 
the occasion with as much relish as the children 
themselves. 


Theories. 


47 


CHAPTER X. 

THEORIES. 

Who SO wise as he who plans for other people? 

^Advice is cheap : the marhef s fuU. 

O'er ready some to teach," 

It was a seven days’ wonder in Burleigh when 
Yailette appeared upon the scene in the home of 
Dr. Snell. 

Curiosity ran rife and had no lack of material 
on which to feasts for Yailette was not a light to 
be hidden under a bushel^ and the little mischief 
made her personality an established fact in a short 
space of time. 

One of her first public acts, which attracted gen- 
eral attention on the part of watchful neighbors, 
was the dropping of Miss Elvira’s pet. Tiger, from 
her chamber window, just for the fun of seeing 
him land on all fours, and as Miss Elvira’s partial- 
ity for Tiger was well known this was set down as 
an enormity likely to be followed by other acts 
well worth looking for. 

Of course the first question was : — ^^Who is she ?” 
and this stood in close proximity to: — ^^here 
did she come from?” 

One sought to throw light on the subject by stat- 


48 The Poorhouse Lark. 

ing that she saw Dr. Snell take the train for a 
neighboring city at a recent date which she could 
not just remember, and she added, with a wise 
look: ^Trobably he found her in some Orphan 
Asylum or Home for the Friendless/^ 

Another questioned this theory because she saw 
the Doctor and Dan drive up with a satchel in the 
back of the carriage, and on watching for an ex- 
planation of this mystery she saw -the little girl 
being taken to the house by Dr. Snell while Dan 
went to the barn with Prince. 

This neighbor also remarked : ^^She didnT look 
a bit like a charity child. Why, her hat was as 
stylish as the one I bought for my Jane Ann, yes- 
terday, and her cloak looked as though it was made 
for a princess — a white felt. I should say, trimmed 
with the prettiest fluffy white fur/’ 

^^Were you speaking of the little girl at Dr. 
SnelFs?’’ said a third party, who had only taken in 
the conversation by piecemeals, in consequence of 
being busily engaged in discussing female suffrage 
with a lawyer of note who happened to be seated 
near her, and on whom she was evidently willing to 
make an impression through a display of her su- 
perior intelligence concerning the subject dis- 
cussed. But she found time to continue : ^^Well, 
if she isn’t a case I’ll wonder. That cat perform- 
ance was nothing to what I saw. Why, I should 
think she must have been brought up in a circus, 
for I saw her turn a somersault on the back porch 
and then rush off to the barn like mad, as .she 
caught sight of Dan leading Prince to water. 
And what do you think Dr. Snell did? He set 
that child on the back of that high-headed horse, 


Theories. 


49 

and she rode all around the yard without being 
held on at all. 

saw Miss Elvira standing in the kitchen door 
and looking on, and expected she would nearly 
faint away, but I haven^t seen her smile more 
pleasantly in a long time, and she didn't seem a 
bit scared. ^Twas a pretty sight. Ell admit, for 
Prince looked so grand, and the child sat as 
straight as an arrow, held her head like a queen, 
and managed the halter as though she had been 
accustomed to it all her days. But my! Just 
think of it ! What if that horse had started 

^^They say the doctor thinks the world of her 
already,'' said the first speaker. ^^He always was 
fond of children, but if he wanted to adopt one I 
don't see why he didn't take one of them Joneses, 
whose mother died last winter. There was seven 
of 'em, and all had to be put out." 

^Tossibly he may have had a choice," came 
in calm, clear tones from the lips of one who had 
thus far acted only as listener ; but, without notic- 
ing the implied sarcasm, the speaker continued : 

^‘^To be sure, they weren't so pretty as this child, 
but, to my mind, they'd never throw Miss Elvira's 
pet cat out of the window, nor ride a horse bare- 
back, like a boy. If I could see Dr. Snell, I'd tell 
him he'd better swop this girl now for one of 
them Joneses." 

^^How does it suit Miss Elvira?" queried a 
brusque, sharp-featured woman, noted throughout 
the town for her precise housekeeping, and of 
whom it was said that her husband had to leave 
his boots outside when he entered his home, and 
whose children held a glad hurrah day when their 


so 


The Poorhoiise Lark. 


mother left them alone in the home where things 
were too good to nse, and where to disarrange 
things was held as ^^an offense to be punished by 
the judges/^ 

^^IVe said, this long time/^ continued the last 
speaker, ^^she made too much of Dan, and to my 
mind Dr. Snell has done a good thing bringing 
another child to divert her attention. Why, the 
other day, when I was in there, Dan was actually 
whittling in the dining room, and they say she 
never seems to mind if he comes in with a dirty 
blouse. 

like Miss Elvira, and think she is a well- 
meaning woman, but if she takes my advice shell 
begin with that girl by making her know her 
place.’^ 

Some whose curiosity bordered on the uncon- 
trollable made it convenient to call on Miss Elvira 
just at this juncture, and, with what they wished 
to pass as friendly interest, ventured to put some 
direct questions relative to the new arrival. 

But they had reckoned without their host. They 
might as well have attacked the icebergs of Spitz- 
bergen, or have attempted to pierce through the 
coat of mail with which ancient soldiers envel- 
oped themselves. 

Miss Elvira was thoroughly polite, but as thor- 
oughly evasive. Vailette^s secret was jealously 
guarded, and Dr. Snell had many a good laugh 
over the manner in which Miss Elvira parried 
questions intended to bring to light so much, but 
which fell flat without disclosing anything. 

As for Dr. Snell, his ever ready wit and quick- 
ness of thought were his armor, and though he 


Theories. 


51 


often wondered that more people did not hit upon 
the facts in the case he was judicious enough to 
keep quiet himself, and, as is usual in such cases, 
he thus saved much annoyance to the parties con- 
cerned. 


52 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


CHAPTEE XL 

KEENO. 

^'There is that scattereth and yet increaseth/* 

^'For the heart grows rich in giving : 

All its wealth is treasured store/' 

CALLED on a new family to-day — one that has 
just moved into town, and they had the prettiest 
little png dog that I've seen in many a day, which 
they wanted to dispose of. 

‘^Vailette would have gone wild over it. It had 
been trained to do more tricks than I ever saw a 
png do before, and even yon, with all yonr dis- 
like for dogs, wonld have langhed till the tears 
came to see the little animal perform." 

Here Dr. Snell dropped the snbject — ^not wish- 
ing to say too mnch. 

When he saw the dog he conld scarcely refrain 
from getting it for Yailette, bnt a second thonght 
deterred him. 

Miss Elvira had, with great self-sacrifice, given 
np all opposition in the matter of bringing Yail- 
ette into the family, and was kindly and patient- 
ly doing all he conld ask for the child, for which 
he felt devontly thankfnl. He knew that Miss 


Keeno 


53 


Elvira hated dogs, and he felt that it would not 
be right to add to her burden by bringing in any- 
thing for the children's amusement which would 
be likely to trouble her. 

After the foregoing remarks he took up the 
evening paper and glanced over its contents, but 
really he was far more interested in reading Miss 
Elvira's face. 

She was mending a rent in Dan's trousers, for 
Dan was not the most careful of boys, and she, 
patient soul, had saved the doctor many a dollar 
through darning and patching. 

Patiently she stitched away, her needle flitting 
in and out between the edges of the unseemly rent 
in a peculiar way which indicated that she had 
something on her mind. 

This fact the doctor noted, but he had learned 
better than to be premature in an attempt to learn 
the state of Miss Elvira's mind, so he read his 
paper and waited. 

At last his patience was rewarded with the ques- 
tion : ^^What did you say the dog's name was ?" 

^^Keeno," was the only response, and the doctor 
returned to his reading, encouraged by the fact 
that even so much of interest had been awakened 
in the mind of Miss Elvira and hoping that the 
matter would not end here. 

Presently there was a pause in the darning, and 
Miss Elvira said: ^Tf you think the dog would 
make the children happier, maybe you'd better 
get it. I thought Vailette looked a little disap- 
pointed the other day when you brought Dan the 
fox and did not bring anything for her. I guess 
I can stand it with such a small dog, if the chil- 


54 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


dren will feed it and promise not to let it be under 
my feert more than half the time. And, now that 
I think of it, when I was downtown this afternoon 
I saw some handsome dog collars jnst being un- 
packed at Townsend^s, and when yon bring the 
dog home suppose you stop there and get one, 
and ril pay for it.^^ 

This, on the part of Miss Elvira, surpassed the 
doctors highest expectations, and he thanked her 
most sincerely for her ready compliance with his 
unexpressed wishes. 

Though she had been there but a few weeks, 
Vailette was working good in that household, and 
to none more than to Miss Elvira. 

To Dr. Snell it gave added joy to the homecom- 
ing, that two children instead of one would run 
to meet him with happy faces and expressions of 
joy. When they knew the route by which he was 
likely to return they sometimes met him far out- 
side of the village, and he usually knew of their 
coming through Vailette’s singing. 

If he heard the singing and then noted an omi- 
nous silence, he knew that mischief was brewing, 
and Prince learned not to be frightened when two 
forms flew out from behind a clump of bushes on 
the roadside. 

Then came the clamber into the carriage, mid 
much laughter and the settling of the question, 
whose turn it was to act as driver for the remain- 
der of the trip, it usually being the case that after 
his hard afternoon’s work Prince’s ebullition of 
spirits had sufficiently subsided to admit of his 
being guided by the hand of a child. 

Then there was the jolly ride home, and Miss 


Keeno. 


55 


Elvira often told Dr. Snell that as they came np 
the driveway he made more noise than either of 
the children. 

But the best time of all was just after supper, 
when, unless business was very urgent. Dr. Snell 
would spend a half-hour with the children, while 
Miss Elvira finished her work. 

This was what the doctor called their ^^confi- 
dence hour'^ — the time for telling what they had 
been doing during the day, and if either little 
heart was burdened with any special grievance or 
sense of wrongdoing it was apt to come out and be 
set right at this hour. 

Dr. Snell possessed the happy faculty of mak- 
ing it easy for them to tell him when they had 
done wrong, and thus was able to lead them in 
the way of right as he might not otherwise have 
been able to do. 

He was also careful to commend whatever he 
noted by way of right doing, and sought to make 
each strong in individual effort to conquer the 
weaknesses of his own character. 

He also taught them that their true strength 
and only safety lay in looking unto God for the 
help which He only can give. 

Throughout their lives Dan and Yailette held 
this hour among their most sacred memories, and 
in later years they realized how the sweetness of 
spirit evidenced by this earthly father had tended 
toward a right conception of the loving Heavenly 
Father. 

It also helped to lessen the sternness of after 
experiences and take the sharpness from the 
sting and the depth from the bitterness in some 


56 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


of life’s severest passages — the memories that ever 
clustered around these sacred hours. 

It was not surprising that Dan and Yailertte did 
not always get on harmoniously. Neither had 
been accustomed to close association with other 
children^ and the state of things incident to such 
conditions was apparent. ^^Mine” was a word 
often heard^ and sometimes a knotty question of 
possession was settled by a resort to arms. In 
such encounters Vailette was usually victorious, 
not because she was the stronger, but through 
her quickness both of thought and motion she 
would reach a given point both mentally and 
physically and have accomplished her purpose be- 
fore the slower Dan had collected himself suffi- 
ciently to have arrived at the desired result. 

Dan was of generous disposition, but if he hap- 
pened to feel irritable it sometimes annoyed him 
if A^ailette asked for his toys, and it was not an 
unknown thing for Vailette to fly into a passion if 
Dan called her doll names, or told her that its 
curls were made of flax instead of real hair. 

But they were not long in becoming much at- 
tached to each other, and it became marked, as of 
Mary and her lamb, that ^Vhere one went the 
other was sure to go.” 

If Dan went to feed Prince nothing suited 
Vailette better than to be on hand to give him 
his grain and to pat his glossy neck and talk to 
him while Dan went through the grooming proc- 
ess and attended to the stable. 

At first Miss Elvira worried continually lest 
the restless Prince, of whom she, with all her 
native courage, was much afraid, would hurt one 


Keeno. 


57 


of the children, but Dr. Snell lessened her fears 
by assuring her of Prince’s perfect gentleness, and 
she was at last induced to satisfy herself on this 
point by following the children to the stable and 
witnessing Prince’s fondness for his little care- 
takers. 

She trod the barn floor as though her skirts 
were of flnest lace and her shoes of gold leaf, and 
would nearly as soon have entered a lion’s den as 
to have gone where she found Dan and Yailette — 
the latter beside the feed box, telling Prince that 
he should be more polite than to eat his grain so 
fast, while she braided his mane to make it crimp : 
and the other in such close proximity to her spe- 
cial horror, a horse’s heels, as to make her start 
back in fear. 

Yailette laughed gleefully when Miss Elvira 
refused to let Prince eat from her hand, and, boy- 
like, Dan showed ofl his smartness by passing un- 
der Prince, standing on his back and finishing his 
performance by climbing to the hayloft from 
Prince’s hayrack instead of going in the usual 
way. 

When Yailette commenced attending school 
Dan always accompanied her, in spite of the fact 
that he was laughed at by other boys, and nothing 
angered him sooner than to have some other child 
tease Yailette, though he was by no means inno- 
cent in that direction himself. 

Dr. Snell took the opportunity to bring Keeno 
home when the children were at school, and, hand- 
ing the basket which contained him to Miss El- 
vira, he remarked in a commonplace way: ^^The 
dog is yours, and if the children let him annoy 


58 The Poorhouse Lark. 

you, you are at liberty to dispose of him at any 
time/^ 

Miss Elvira gravely took the basket and, plac- 
ing it on the floor and seating herself in front of 
it, she cautiously raised the cover and peeped in. 
But not so cautious was Keeno. The prospect of 
release from his prison was so animating to his 
dog nature that he jumped out of the basket and 
landed in the good lady’s lap, much to her con- 
sternation and to Dr. Snell’s amusement. 

The shock of this surprising introduction being 
over. Miss Elvira must needs see whether Dr. 
Snell had acted judiciously in the selection of a 
collar, and by the time that point was determined 
Keeno had cuddled down in such a cunning way 
and seemed so entirely happy and at home that 
more than half of Miss Elvira’s prejudice against 
him had vanished already, and she began to look 
eagerly for the children’s coming, that she might 
witness their joy. 

Yes, Miss Elvira was learning a new lesson in 
the direction of living in the interests of other 
people. 

She was considered a self-sacrificing woman, 
and so, to a certain extent, she was, but now she 
was beginning to see that her self-sacrifice had 
been narrowed down to too limited a compass. 

As we know, it had cost her a severe struggle 
to bring herself to the point where she was willing 
to care for Vailette. 

What was this pauper child to her, and why 
should she be plagued with other people’s children 
when their own relatives denied them the care 
which was theirs by right? 


Keeno. 


59 


She did her duty faithfully by way of working 
for the poor at the sewing circle, and often 
brought home work to finish at odd moments. 

Then, too, she contributed liberally to both 
home and foreign missions, and it was said that 
she fed more tramps than any other woman in the 
town. 

But in spite of all these arguments with her- 
self she could not feel at ease, for she could bat 
see that while she had done these things she was 
more than willing to leave undone what did not 
suit her inclination. 

But after a time something besides the trouble 
of it began to suggest itself to her mind in con- 
nection with Yailette. 

The neighbors said she was proud of the pretty 
child, and true it was that she did begin to enjoy 
seeing her marching down the street with Dan as 
they started for school. 

Why it was she could scarcely tell, but some 
how the scenes of her own girlhood were relived 
as she helped Vailette dress her doll, and she 
found that it did not at all detract from her love 
for Dan that her heart went out toward another 
in its kind impulses, and her hands wrought no 
less willingly for those whom she was wont to 
serve, that she also helped another of God^s little 
ones to walk in the way toward higher living and 
true womanhood. 

^^There is that scattereth and yet increaseth^^ 
is a divine preocpt, and it found its illustration in 
the experience of Miss Elvira. 


6o 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


CHAPTEE XIL 

SCHOOL LIFE. 

^^Delightful task to rear the tender thought; 

To teach the young idea how to shoot/' 

Previous to her coming to Burleigh^ Vailette’s 
education had been sadly neglected. She knew 
little of school life, and who can blame Miss El- 
vira if, in comparing her with Dan, that good wo- 
man felt a pardonable pride in the superiority of 
the child which had been under her immediate 
supervision over one who would never cease, in 
her mind, to be associated with the memory of the 
Poorhouse, and whose ^^low-lived parentage’^ was, 
in the mind of Miss Elvira, a formidable barrier 
in the way of future distinction. 

ISTevertheless, she worked hard to bring herself 
up to the point, day by day, where she could hon- 
estly answer to her own conscience to the fact that 
it should be no fault of hers if the pauper child 
turned out badly. She was scrupulous in her 
care, and even Dan did not fare better than Vail- 
ette in those attentions necessary, both as regard- 
ed the physical and the moral nature. 

Though this was no slight task, Vailette’s ward- 
robe was kept in the best of order, and she was 


School Life. 6i 

careful to be just as ready to help one child as 
the other in the school work. 

Then, too, there were the Sunday School les- 
sons. Here she found a difference in methods re- 
quired, but she labored to let that make no dif- 
ference in faithfulness on her part. Dan, who, 
under her training, had from earliest years been 
educated to consider his Sunday School lesson 
learning as one of the things that must be, took to 
it without trouble, but several weary Saturday 
afternoons had to be spent by Yailette in the con- 
fines of her room before she would submit to the 
learning of the lessons, which could easily be mas- 
tered in half an hour. 

But there was a difference — that difference 
which even the child instinctively recognizes, and 
which added years emphasize in proportion to the 
susceptibility of the heart to the intenser emo- 
tions, and the tenacity with which it clings to its 
preferences and loves. 

If Miss Elvira had an earthly idol it was Dan, 
and her heart did not go out to Yailette with the 
same affection, a lack which Yailette never failed 
to recognize from the hour that she changed her 
seat at table so as to sit beside Dr. Snell. 

At first Yailette was in lower classes than Dan, 
but gradually she gained on him until they stood 
side by side. 

But there were respects in which Yailette was 
required to give place to none. From the first 
she led the singing in her department. Then, in 
time, it became known that she could recite beauti- 
fully, and this, added to the fact that she had a 
natural talent for instrumental music, made her 


62 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


much sought after on occasions of public school 
exercises, and, in fact, for literary entertainments 
of any kind where a child musician could figure, 
until Miss Elvira began to question whether the 
child would not be spoiled through overmuch 
notice. 

Dan, on the contrary, was not a prodigy in 
these directions, and, of all things, he hated 
^^speaking pieces.’^ 

On account of this dislike he had thus far 
slipped along with little experience in the hated 
art, but not long after Yailette^s coming his 
teacher told him that he must now take part with 
the others and be ready with a piece to speak the 
next Friday afternoon. 

This announcement was made on Monday 
morning, and from that time until the dreaded 
Friday afternoon Dan was in a most unusual 
state of nervous excitement. 

Miss Elvira thought his father should go to the 
teacher and have him excused, but for once his 
father stood firm in opposition to Miss Elvira's 
suggestion, and insisted that Dan should take his 
part with the other children in a manly way. 

Seeing that there was no way out of it, even 
through Miss Elvira, Dan began to wrestle with 
the problem vigorously. He hunted his scrap 
book through for a piece, and, with Vailette's 
help, decided upon one commencing: 

Sandy and Ned were brothers: 

Ned was older than Sandy; 

And they were busy dividing 
A stick of 'peppermint candy/^ 


School Life. 


63 


Learning this was an easy matter, and he re- 
peated it over and over to Miss Elvira until the 
latter felt sure that not one in the department 
could do better than her Dannie. 

Timidity was not one of Dan’s striking char- 
acteristics, but on this paiticiilar Friday after- 
noon he took his place with the others who were 
to participate in the exercises pale and trembling. 

Each time a name was called he started, then 
drew a sigh of relief when he found that he still 
escaped. 

But at last his turn came. It was Dan Snell 
this time and no mistake. 

lie trembled worse than ever, hut, remembering 
his father’s words: ^^Now, Dannie, be a m.an and 
see if you can’t speak as well as Yailette,” he 
screwed his courage to the sticking point and 
started for the platform. 

He reached the spot where the others had stood 
and made his bow. This was so deep and so awk- 
ward that it was somewhat ludicrous, but the 
teacher suppressed all signs of merriment on the 
part of any and left him to proceed. 

His knees fairly smote together, as, after an 
undue pause, he commenced in low tones: 

Sandy and Ned were brothers/' 

with an intense falling inflection on ^Trothers.” 

^'Ned tv as older than Sandy'' — a gasp and a 
hurrying into the next line — 

*^And they were busy dividing, 

A stick of peppermint candy/' 


64 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


^^Candy, candy, CANDY. A stick of pepper- 
mint, peppermint candy.^^ 

He looked hard at the floor and then at his 
shoes, but he could not get beyond the peppermint 
candy. 

This was too much for Vailette, who had just 
gone through with a fine recitation, and she gig- 
gled outright. 

By changing the current of Dan^s thoughts, 
Vailette’s giggle saved Dan from utter failure. It 
angered him greatly, but the blood rushed back 
into his pale face and with it came the scattered 
thoughts to his brain. He rallied and again took 
up the ‘^peppermint candy.^^ 

His teacher suggested that he commence again. 
He did so, and this time went through the whole 
piece quite creditably. 

It was years before Vailette ceased to tease him 
through reference to ^‘peppermint candy,^^ but the 
time came when she was glad to let the subject 
drop. 


Characteristics. 


65 


CHAPTEE XIII. 

CHARACTERISTICS. 

^'The heart Jcnoweth its own 'bitterness and a 
stranger intermeddleth not with its joy," 

When Yailette left the Poorhouse, she left it for 
good and all, and would fain have left the memory 
of it behind, but after events proved that this was 
out of the question. 

On the morning of her mother^s death, when the 
Matron Sarah Conlis, in not unkind but very 
abrupt way, wakened her out of a sound sleep and 
suddenly told her briefly that her mother was dead, 
ishe seemed stunned, and burying her face in her 
hands she threw herself back on her cot and no 
efforts of Sarah’s could induce her to rise, though 
she did her best at coaxing and petting, and held 
out as an inducement to come to breakfast, a tart 
pie on the next baking day, and liberty to ride to 
town when Harding went for the Poormaster to 
come and see about the funeral. 

It was Crazy Luce who,se light, nervous hand 
rested lovingly on the little head, and whose silent 
touch brought the tears which had refused to flow, 
and which seemed to ease the overburdened head 
and heart. 


66 


The Poorhouse Lark, 


But all that day Yailette wandered about aim- 
lessly, not even caring to go with Harding to feed 
the poultry, and among that forlorn company 
which constituted the inmates of this institution 
of charity, many a tear trickled down cheeks unac- 
customed to their flow, from eyes long unused to 
weeping^ at sight of the sad face of the usually 
gleesome little pet. 

Flowers handed her by Dan on the day of her 
mothers funeral caused the first smile to light up 
her face. 

Hitherto she had refused to look at her mother 
since her death, but she at once slipped away to 
Crazy Luce and asked her to take her to the room 
where the coffined remains of her mother stood 
ready for burial, and having chosen some white 
rosebuds and some geranium leaves, she asked 
Luce to place them in the icy hands, and then with 
a long-drawn sigh, which in most children would 
have been a wail, she quickly turned away and 
left the room. 

Dr. Snell had asked Miss Elvira to accompany 
him and Dan to this funeral, but to this invitation 
Miss Elvira had responded: — ^^Ho, it was always 
against my principles to go to a funeral for curi- 
osity’s sake when I never showed any interest in 
the person while living. I believe in Sarah Con- 
lis’s theory, that the time to do folks good is 
while they’re living, and I feel condemned that I 
didn’t take more pains for this woman.” 

Miss Elvira evidenced her repentance by going 
to her flower garden and picking the choicest 
bouquet she could collect for Dan to take to Vail- 
ette — with what result we have already seen. 


Characteristics. 


67 


When, not long after the funeral of Mrs. Mc- 
Crae, Dr. Snell asked Yailette if she would like to 
go and live with him and Dan, her joy knew no 
bounds. 

She seemed unable to take in the fact that such 
a joy could come to her, and looked so incredulous 
that the doctor, thinking she might not have un- 
derstood his proposition, repeated it, this time add- 
ing that Dan would like her to come and go to 
school with him. Then with a bound she sprang 
into his arms, clasped her little arms about his 
neck, buried her face on his shoulder and wept 
for joy till he told her she must go and tell Crazy 
Luce about it and ask Sarah Conlis to get her 
ready. 

She would not say good-bye to anybody, but as 
she started away she waved her hand to the group 
gathered on the Poorhouse steps in a way which in- 
dicated that she was not indifferent to the situa- 
tion. 

Once having left, she would never return to the 
Poorhouse and would not even ride past it with 
Dr. Snell if she could help it. 

Crazy Luce she was always delighted to see, but 
once Sarah Conlis called and asked to see her, 
and when Miss Elvira went to call her she vtiS 
nowhere to be found, though Miss Elvira felt sure 
she heard her singing in the garden, as Sarah 
Conlis came through the gate. 

Through her affections Yailette was easily led 
and Dr. Snell seemed to have no difficulty in con- 
trolling her. 

Miss Elvira often found it necessary to say, 
^Tou musV^ while with Dr. Snell, ^‘^Will youP^ 


68 


The Poorhouse Lark, 


was always sufficient, a fact which Miss Elvira 
noted to her mortification, and over which she 
pondered much in secret, the meantime hoping that 
other people did not notice this feature of the 
home training, for in her secret heart she prided 
herself on the fact of being really the head of Dr. 
Snell’s household. 

Like many another, she was blind to her own 
peculiarities, and she had given little thought to 
the comparative power as a controlling force of the 
laws of stern duty and of absorbing love. 

Hers was a nature which would respond to the 
call of duty, and a ^Thus saith the Lord,” clear 
and decided was what she desired as her rule of 
action, and to this she yielded calmly and uncom- 
promisingly. But she gave less thought to those 
still, small voices which come through the affec- 
tions, and which lead one to do as did Elijah — 
stand with mantle-wrapped face and listen, where 
he had stood unmoved before the power of the great 
and strong wind which rent the mountains and 
broke in pieces the rocks, but of which it was 
said:- ^^6od was not in the wind.” 

Miss Elvira adhered with rigid strictness to her 
practice of requiring the children to have their 
Sunday School lessons ready for perfect recitation 
on Saturday afternoon, and she also adhered to 
the good old-time practice of memorizing accu- 
rately passage of Scripture contained in the les- 
sons. 

It was a rare occurrence which was allowed to 
interfere with these lessons. If Dr. Snell wanted 
the children to ride in the afternoon, the time 
might be changed to a morning hour, but nothing 


Crazy Luces Visit to Braton. 85 

her; then her attention was turned to the shop- 
ping bag, the contents of which was duly exam- 
ined. 

A motley collection it was which the bag con- 
tained, suggestive of the fact that each article had 
been selected with reference to possible use, though 
what occasion could call some of these into requi- 
sition was the question. There was a package of 
candy and one of shoestrings, two fancy handker- 
chiefs, three ginger cookies, two packages of paper 
lamp lighters, a mouse trap and an old rusty pad- 
lock without a key, also a handsome little leather 
covered Testament. 

A thorough examination having satisfied her 
with regard to the safety of her treasures, she re- 
turned them to their receptacle, giving the rattle 
box and the mouth organ their accustomed promi- 
nent pc«6ition. This being accomplished to her 
mind, she placed the bag on the seat beside the 
doll and turned her face toward the window and 
her undivided attention to views outside. 

When the conductor came along to examine the 
tickets, finding that she had none, he gave her 
one to Braton, paying for it himself. He had 
recognized her as his former Sunday School teach- 
er, and knew something of her history. He re- 
called the sweet, loving faithfulness with which 
she had impressed upon his mind religious truths, 
and tears came unbidden into his eyes as he hand- 
ed her the ticket with a kindly greeting and passed 
on. 

When she reached Braton her first visit was to 
the cemetery where her family treasures were 
buried. 


86 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


One wonld have supposed that this visit would 
have excited her. But after kneeling beside the 
grassy mounds she came forth and went on her 
way calmer than before. 

When her presence in Braton became known 
many doors were open to her. She flitted from 
house to house in the old neighborhood, with the 
restlessness which was her wont, never staying 
in any more than a few hours at a time, though 
she might pay the same family half a dozen visits 
on as many consecutive days. 

Concerning the Ashtons she made no inquiries, 
and did not call at their home until the last day 
of her stay in Braton, when she took pains to go 
without the knowledge of any of her friends. Her 
call here was a peculiar one, and it was evidently 
embarrassing to both parties. Crazy Luce ram- 
bled on excitedly, so intermingling the past and 
the present as to confuse her listeners. 

But two things she managed to do — to teach 
them more of the Christ spirit than they had 
ever learned before, through her own sweet spirit 
of forgiveness of the wrong which they well knew 
she had always felt they did her ; and also to drop 
a remark which indicated to them that Etholine 
at her death left a child — a girl named Vailette — 
who still lived. 

On the latter they would have questioned her 
further, and have learned something definite, but 
before they scarcely knew it she was gone. 

Trat was the last of this visit in Braton. She 
had kept it secret as to from whence she came, 
and it was an equal mvstery as to whither she 
went. 


The Tramp. 


87 


CHAPTER XVL 

THE TRAMP. 

‘*11 e hath songs for man or woman, of all sizes f* 
— ^^iNTER^s Tale/^ ly., 4. 

“In Nature's infinite hooh of secrecy 

A little I can read/' 

— ^^Antony and Cleopatra/^ 4. 

One morning when Crazy Luce was calling at 
Dr. SnelFs, Vailette took her to the garden to show 
her the rose bed, which was in the height of its 
glory. 

Miss Elvira took interest in all her flowers, but 
this rose bed was her especial pride, and on it she 
had lavished much of both time and care. 

Careful as she waS' in her expenditures of 
money, sundry little sums found their way into 
a certain compartment of her pocketbook, on 
which might have been placed the label : ^^For the 
flower garden.^^ Through this means the seller of 
plants and shrubs who had learned to know his cus- 
tomers usually found ready sale for any new and 
choice variety of rose bush which he might chance 
to have, until Miss Elvira^s rose bed came to be 
known as the finest in Burleigh. 


88 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


Miss Elvira was not one who considered flowers 
too good to be picked, neither did she wish all 
her store to be confined to the gracing of the home 
garden or lawn. 

Many a vase was filled with a choice bouquet 
from Miss Elvira^s flower beds, and many a sick 
person forgot for a time the sense of pain, through 
drinking in the beauty of these flowers and dwell- 
ing on the kindness which had prompted the send- 
ing. ^ 

Miss Elvira, who, with a pan in her hand, came 
leisurely down the walk to the vegetable garden to 
get some lettuce for dinner, heard Yailette singing 
to Crazy Luce, and saw the two .sitting together 
under the tree, but the scene was too familiar to 
claim special attention. 

But as she turned toward the garden gate she 
saw something which so astonished her that she 
dropped her lettuce, pan and all. 

On the other side of the garden paling, near 
where Crazy Luce and Vailette sat, stood a tranipy 
looking man. 

His clothes were ragged and dirty, and his un- 
shaven face and bushy locks indicated disregard 
of care in the matter of toilet. 

Yet in spite of his unseemly appearance, a 
strange sensation crept over the calm Miss Elvira 
as she looked upon the stranger, though why this 
was she was at first unable to explain, even to 
herself. 

The stranger did not observe Miss Elvira. He 
had eyes for no one but Yailette, whose face he 
scanned, and whose every move he watched with 
eyes which had in them such a steely gleam that 


The Tramp. 89 

Mss Elvira shuddered, and there flashed through 
her mind the thought of a poisonous adder about 
to spring upon its victim. 

She recalled stories of abduction which she 
had read, and to her excited mind Yailette was 
in immediate danger of being carried away by the 
stranger. 

Her first impulse was to fly to the rescue of 
Vailette and had the latter been alone she would 
have done so, but a second thought deterred her. 
There was little to fear for the child as long as 
Crazy Luce was with her. So she remained quiet 
and watched for a time, being hidden from ob- 
servation by a large barberry bush. 

When Miss Elvira first noticed the stranger, 
Yailette was talking to Crazy Luce, and when she 
began to sing again, a change passed over the 
hard, depraved looking face. The steely gleam 
faded out of the really handsome eyes, and she 
thought that in its place came a semblance to 
tears. Then he clasped his arms across his breast 
as though in embrace, and a look of unutterable 
anguish passed over his face, just as Miss Elvira 
came up to where he stood. 

^^To what are we indebted for this scene 
came in chilling tones from the lips of the fright- 
ened, indignant Miss Elvira. 

The stranger started and looked up at the 
speaker with a defiant expression as of one accus- 
tomed to rebuffs and also to fighting his way. 
Then, as if seeing that it was a woman who ad- 
dressed him, and thinking that in that fact might 
be hope of leniency if not of sympathy, the softer 
look returned to his face as in an excited tone he 


90 The Poorhouse Lark. 

said : only wanted to look at the child. She’s 

mine.” 

heap she’s yonrs, when yon left her mother 
to die in the Poorhonse, and her to get along as 
she could/’ said the now thoroughly roused Miss 
Elvira, and when in her excitement she could get 
breath enough, she added : ^^l^Iister, the best thing 
you can do is to get away from here as soon as 
possible, and never be seen in these parts a^ain.” 

The man disappeared as quietly as he came, 
and Miss Elvira returned to the house with most 
busy thoughts. 

She could now understand why the face of the 
stranger had impressed her so strangely. 

She congratulated herself for the part which 
she had taken i the affair, and felt extremely 
thankful that Yailette had no knowledge of it. 

But she mistook. During a pause in the sing- 
ing, hearing voices both Vailette and Crazy Luce 
had turned just in time to get a view of the 
stranger, and both had also heard h^ closing 
words — words which burned into the seal of 
Vailette as with tongues of living flame. 


Walter McCra( 


91 


CHAPTER XVII. 

WALTER McCRAB. 

''The iiighiy purpose never is o^ertooh 
Unless the deed go with itT 

— Shakespeare. 

It was an important time in Walter McCrae’s 
history — that morning when he paused at Dr. 
SnelFs garden. 

He stood nearer the Kingdom that hour than he 
had ever done before, and shed truer tears than 
were wont to course his cheeks. 

His soul had never known such conflict as 
waged itself within him that morning, and some- 
times almost it seemed that there was hope that 
the outcast might yet grasp the life promise which 
the pleadings of his better nature held out to him, 
and turn to something better than he had known. 

But the power of habit was strong, and the 
sneers of boon companions were an argument which 
he had not strength of will to combat. 

Nobody in Burleigh knew for what intent he 
now visited that place. 

Well had it been for himself and for others, had 
his plan been known and defeated before its carry- 
ing out. 


92 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


The garb of a tramp was assumed, though it was 
little worse than, mid the ups and downs of his life 
he had previously been at times compelled to wear; 
for his had been a checkered experience. 

He was of Irish and Italian parentage, and in- 
herited the national characteristics, keen wit and a 
love for music. 

Early orphaned, he led the life of a waif in city 
streets until he was sixteen years of age. 

He was quick and ready, and when necessity 
drove him to straits could turn his hand to vari- 
ous things by means of which he could pick up 
money sufficient for a living. 

When other means failed he had for capital a 
musical talent which stood him in good stead as 
means toward an end. 

His singing would call a crowd around him, and 
many a dime was won in this way. 

As he grew older ho accompanied his singing 
with the music of an Italian harp, which his father 
had brought from Italy, and by means of which the 
father earned in large part his living. 

When he was sixteen years old his musical talent 
attracted the attention of the manager of a travel- 
ing theatrical company, who thought that the 
youthful harper might be an acquisition by way of 
increasing his gains, and he was hired to travel 
with the troupe. 

This manner of life pleased young McCrae, and 
he followed it for several years. The traveling 
from place to place suited his roving disposition, 
settling down to steady work in any place never 
being to liis mind. 

He had his dream of love, and married Etholine 


Walter McCrae. 


93 


Ashton, but it was hardly to be expected that a na- 
ture like his would have a high ideal of conjugal 
relations. Certain it was that he had not, and 
family cares soon proving too irksome for him, as 
we have seen, he was not long in ridding himself of 
them. Then he went from bad to worse. He really 
possessed considerable native talent, and might 
have made much of himself as a musician. But he 
chose evil rather than good, and worse than wasted 
the talents with which he was intrusted, until at 
last he was dismissed from the theatrical troupe as 
not worthy of their further consideration. Then 
he identified himself with a secret organization, 
whose schemes and plottings would not bear the 
light, and it was in the interest of this organiza- 
tion that he now visited Burleigh. 

He knew nothing of Vailette^s whereabouts 
until, as he passed the garden, he heard her voice 
and paused to listen to her singing. 

At his first view of her face he started back ap- 
palled, for almost it seemed to him as though his 
Etholine was before him. 

There were the same beautiful eyes, the waving 
hair was of precisely the same color, and as the 
child turned her face partially toward him he saw 
that it was thrown back from the forehead just as 
he had so often seen that of the mother. 

Then, too, as the child talked, he noted the poise 
of her head, which was so like that of Etholine. 

There was no doubt in his mind that he saw his 
own child, and the gleam of his eyes,, which we have 
noted, came with the thought that he would take 
her with him and save himself the trouble of earn- 
ing his own living, through the money he felt sure 


94 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


he could make with her voice to accompany his 
harp^ for his quick musical ear told him that the 
child v/as possessed of superior musical talent. 

He was not given to moralizing, and seldom 
j Aused to give place to better thoughts, when self 
and personal interest were considered. But ior 
some reason, as he stood with his gaze riveted upon 
the child, thinking what an acquisition she would 
be to him, suddenly the current of his thoughts 
was changed. 

Strange to say, considerations which bordered on 
thoughtfulness for another, took up an unac- 
customed place within his soul. 

Evidently the child was in a place where she was 
well cared for and happy. A life with him would 
be to her of a vastly different nature, and why 
should he disturb the peaceful flow of her life? 

Then the thought of v/hat might have been, 
filled him with anguish and unutterable longing. 

Visions of a happy home, with this child as its 
light and joy, flashed on his mind — visions which 
he well knew it had once lain in his power to real- 
ize. and there sprang up within him a thought of 
making the future differ from the past. 

But, alas, this flying purpose had no attendant 
deed on which to fasten as its basis — no strong 
underlying principle on which to rest. 

Like ^The morning cloud aiid the early dew,” it 
vanished, leaving the victim of his own folly to 
wrestle with the powers of evil which seemed bent 
on his complete overthrow, and which he used no 
power of will to resist. 

He looked down at his tattered garb, and a feel- 
ing of shame, to which he had hitherto been a 


Walter McCi'ae. 


95 


stranger, suffused his cheek with a burning blush 
at the comparing of his present self with the vision 
of what he might have been. 

He did not need Miss Elvira’s words to deter- 
mine him to leave the place, for now he would not 
that the child should >see him, and he slunk away 
in as great haste as Miss Elvira desired, and with 
as craven an air as in the latter’s mind became one 
in his position. 

Miss Elvira flattered herself that her bravery 
had frightened the tramp away, but she mistook; 
for ten minutes afterward he could scarcely have 
told what she said. 

It was the whip and spur of an accusing con- 
science which hastened his steps, and made him 
glad to place himself where the eyes of the child 
would not rest upon him, for he felt that their 
light of childish innocence would bum into his very 
soul. 


96 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


CHAPTER XVIIL 

THE BANK ROBBERY. 

'prodigal course 

Is Klee the sun's; hut 'not like his, recoverable'^ 

— Shakespeare. 

There was great excitement in Burleigh. One 
morning the inhabitants of this quiet town awak- 
ened to the fact that on the previous night its bank 
had been robbed. 

A young man who slept in the bank and had 
tried to give the alarm, had also been assaulted 
with evident criminal intent, and his life greatly 
endangered. 

^Tt was a bold piece of business/^ isaid the bank 
president, ^^and none but an expert could have 
opened a safe as this one was opened. I turned the 
lock myself, and know that it could not have been 
unfastened by one who did not understand the 
combination without the use of dynamite.^^ 

^^Do you remember,^^ said the usually quiet, but 
now somewhat excited cashier, ^^a man who came in 
here about a week ago, just as we were closing, and 
wanted a twenty-dollar bill changed ? 

never saw such eyes as that man had, and it 
struck me at the time that there was little about 


The Bank Robbery. 97 

this bank that he did not take in, though he tried 
to appear as though he saw nothing/^ 

^^Yes/^ added the clerk, noted the same thing. 
He came to my desk, ostensibly to ask about the 
time of the evening train, but as I think of it now, 
I can see that his object might have been to get a 
better view of the safe when Mr. Glines opened it 
to get the money for changing the bill.^^ 

^‘MTiat struck me in connection with that man,^^ 
.said the bank president, in his slow, deliberate way^ 
as though giving each word its full weight and 
measure, ^Vas that he reminded me so strikingly 
of a tramp whom I saw on the street a short time 
previous. But for the improbability of the case, I 
could almost have taken my oath that this man 
was the same individual that I saw standing by Dr. 
SnelFs gate as I passed. 

‘^1 heard Vailette^s voice in the garden, and 
should have bidden the fellow pass on, but for the 
reason that I discovered that Miss Elvira had taken 
the matter in hand, and that, consequently, inter- 
ference on my part was unnecessary. But if that 
tramp and this man were not the same individual, 
my powers of observation are not what I take them 
to be,^^ said the bank official, with an air that might 
be taken as savoring of conceit, or of extreme 
modesty, as one chose to judge it. 

Of those who suffered through the bank robbery, 
the burden fell heaviest on Dr. Snell, who had a 
considerable sum deposited in the safe. He had de- 
signed making an investment some days previous 
to the robbery, but in accordance with his usual 
easy-going ways, he had from day to day let the 
matter slip along, as something else took his time 


98 The Poorhouse Lark. 

and attention, nntil suddenly he awakened to the 
fact that his neglect had cost him the accumula- 
tions of years of hard work in his profession. 

A clue being obtained, detectives were put upon 
the track of the bank robbers, and in time they 
were captured and brought to Burleigh, the county 
seat, for trial. 

They were three in number, one a mere lad, and 
the others two middle-aged. 

The elder one, who gave his name as John 
Smith, has before appeared in our story. The bank 
president was correct in supposing him to be the 
tramp whom he saw at Dr. SnelFs garden gate. 

The trial excited much interest in Burleigh. 

The courtroom was crowded during the entire 
session. 

The boy concerned, turned Statens evidence, and 
combined with other testimony, the evidence of 
guilt became more and more clear, until little 
further proof was needed to fasten guilt which 
called for the law^s fearful sentence upon the two 
older culprits. 

The trial was to end on Saturday afternoon. 

Now and then Miss Elvira attended a session 
of court, but during this trial she had not entered 
the courtroom. 

On the last afternoon, however, she was induced 
by some neighboring women to join them in listen- 
ing to the conclusion of the matter which had in- 
terested them all so deeply. 

Miss Elvira’s going involved taking Vailette, but 
as she was so young, no one thought of any harm 
in her going. 

The courtroom was crowded when this party en- 


99 


The Bank Robbery. 

tered, but seats were secured for them in a part of 
the courtroom near a side entrance, but where they 
could hear all that was said and get a good view 
of the prisoners. 

Vailette was seated in a window which looked 
toward a jail, standing not more than two rods 
away, and she was much more interested in watch- 
ing what was going on outside than in the court- 
room. 

But not so Miss Elvira. She listened with in- 
tense interest to the proceedings, and waited al- 
most breathlessly for the appearing of the prisoners 
to receive their sentences. 

Then she saw the culprits slowly file in, and pass 
around and take their places at the bar. 

It did not need pleading words on the part of the 
judge to make her heart go out in sympathy for 
the boy who had been the victim of those older in 
sin, and she was hoping lor leniency for him, when, 
ine other prisoners having taken their positions, 
turned their faces directly toward her. 

She heard the judge speak the names of the 
prisoners, but not another word of all he said could 
she afterward recall. 

She had to learn through others that in consider- 
ation of the extenuating circumstances the boy was 
discharged — that James Steams was condemned 
to imprisonment for eighteen years and John 
Smith for life. 

The occasion of her strange state of mind was 
this: — When the prisoner, Smith, turned his face 
toward her, she felt chilled to her heart’s core, for 
the thought flashed over her that John Smith 
was none other than the tramp whom she felt 


L.ofC, 


lOO 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


sure had spoken honestly in claiming to, be the 
father of Vailette. 

She tried to look again to assure herself further 
of the correctness of her supposition, but she felt 
dizzy and faint and the black shadows before her 
eyes prevented her seeing anything distinctly. 

She was recalled to herself by Vailette who up to 
this time had been so engrossed as to have wholly 
forgotten her surroundings. 

Consequently it was not so very strange, that 
just as the Judge had finished pronouncing his 
sentence, she startled the court, to say nothing of 
the Judge himself, by a merry peal of ringing 
laughter as she raised her hand to catch a gleam of 
reflected sunshine which flashed into the room. 

While the others had been intent on law and 
justice, the child had been watching a prisoner 
who stood at the window of his cell directly oppo- 
site to the window where Vailette sat and who had 
for some time been using his best efforts to amuse 
the little maiden. 

At last he hit upon a happy expedient. Taking 
a mirror he let the sunlight fall upon it and flashed 
the reflection into the face of the child. 

The prisoner, Stearns, wept like a child when 
his sentence was pronounced. 

But not so Smith, or in other words MeCrae. 

He stood like a statue, with rigid form and 
stolid face, as though he had not heard the fearful 
words — for life. 

His eyes the meantime sought the floor as though 
he was wholly indifferent to considerations of any 
sort. 

As Vailette’s voice sounded through the court- 


lOI 


The Bank Robbery. 

room, he looked up with a sudden start. His face 
turned paler than it had done at any time during 
his trial, while over it passed the look of anguish, 
and the Judge had to request an officer to support 
the prisoner as he left the courtroom. 


102 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


CHAPTER XIX. 

TRIFLES. 

""So on the ocean of life we pass and speaTc one 
another/^ 

As we have seen, Miss Elvira mistook in sup- 
posing that Vailette was ignorant of the presence 
of the tramp that halted at the garden gate that 
summers morning. 

Crazy Luce first noticed him while he listened 
to the singing, and as she at once recognized 
him she became greatly excited, but Vailette only 
turned her head in time to catch the expression of 
his face as he uttered the words which she at once 
recognized as pertaining to herself. 

Young as Vailette was, before she left the Poor- 
house she had listened to a conversation which 
fixed itself indelibly upon her memory. 

She was playing with a doll which Dr. Snell 
had brought her, in one corner of the room where 
her mother lay. 

One who had known her mother in better days 
had sought her out and called to see her. 

Neither of the two had any idea that the child 
was listening, but her little ears caught this re- 
mark from her mothers lips: — ‘T often wish she 


Trifles. 


103 


were plainer looking, for I feel sure that if her 
father were to see how pretty she is he would claim 
her ; and I would rather see her laid in her grave 
to-day, than Lave her lead the vagabond life she 
would necessarily lead with him/^ 

Vailette played on with her doll, and soon what 
she heard passed out of her mind, but not beyond 
the pale of memory, and when she heard the 
tramp^s remark she associated the two, and thus 
became more frightened than she had ever been 
before in all her life. 

Had her father listened ever so cloisely he would 
have heard no more singing that day from her 
lips, and it was many days before she would go into 
the garden alone or sing where she thought her 
voice would be heard from the street. 

Miss Elvira attributed this strange freak to a 
child^s natural fear of tramps; but Dr. Snell 
who understood Vailette better, and to whom Miss 
Elvira had repeated the conversation at the garden 
gate, more than half suspected that Vailette had 
obtained an inkling of the true state of the case — 
a state of things which he was far from desiring. 

He took much pains to divert her mind from 
the subject, and would have succeeded but for the 
scene in the courtroom which told the sensitive 
Vailette that it was her father who had helped 
to make Dr. Snell a poor man by sweeping away 
the hard earnings of many years. 

Up to this time Vailette had never thought of 
associating her father with the bank robbery. 

She had heard the tramp called Smith spoken 
of, and her mind followed the subject no further 
than to feel very indignant towards him that 


104 The Poorhouse Lark. 

lie had treated her good Dr. Snell so badly, and 
she and Dan had often talked the matter over in 
child fashion, as to what his punishment ought 
to be. 

But that visit to the courtroom. — Much mental 
suffering had been saved to her had she not made 
it, but who could foresee that that merry peal of 
rippling laughter from the lips of the pretty child, 
would change the current of thought throughout 
that vast audience and send a deeper pang of re- 
morse surging through the guilty heart of the 
victim of the law than all other influences to- 
gether had caused him to experience. 

Yes, who could know! and who can know the 
thousand and one seeming trifles which become 
mighty agents in directing life currents. A bit of 
driftwood will turn a stream from its accustomed 
channel. A few stones and a little earth will 
throw the waters back upon themselves until field 
and meadow become submerged and the husband- 
man sighs gloomily over labor lost. 

Again, the well-laid drain will make of the 
worthless marsh a fertile field, and the timely 
shower turns the arid plain into a veritable gar- 
den of the Lord. 

It is a trite aphorism that the falling of an 
apple acted an important part in developing the 
law of gravitation, and what of the early days of 
electricity without the figuring of that famous 
kite. 

So in human life. It is not necessary to turn to 
history^s page to find illustrations of this truth. 
Who that cannot turn to some word that has led 
him in this direction or that, or some infljaence that 


Trifles. 


105 


changed perchance, the current of his life. Few 
fully know what lies within them until some in- 
fluence strikes a vibrating cord which brings out 
the true man, either as to character or to possibili- 
ties. It is said that Goethe did not dream of the 
'possibilities within him until he fell in with a 
copy of Shakespeare’s works; and also, that Mrs. 
Hemans through the reading of this mighty au- 
thor, became conscious of her talent for poetry. 

When confronted with his great work, Moses 
pleaded his inability until, the Scripture saith, 
^‘^The anger of the Lord was kindled agains)!: 
Moses.” 

So, too. King David, the grand and seemingly 
invincible, bowed before the power of a temptation 
which branded his name for all time. 

Yailette’s was such a self-contained nature that 
no one realized its suffering, but from that hour in 
the courtroom she began to form schemes for pay- 
ing back Dr. Snell’s money. 

Hitherto, with her, to get a penny was to spend 
it, and Miss Elvira often held up to her by way 
of reproof, the practice of Dan whom she had early 
taught to put his pennies in a red tin box on 
which was printed in gilded letters the word — 
^^BAKK.” 

Miss Elvira had early provided Yailette with a 
bank similar to Dan’s, but thus far it had answered 
little purpose except, with its one penny to serve 
as a rattle-box with which to frighten Keeno, who 
never failed to bark vigorously and show as great 
signs of fear as could be desired whenever it was 
presented to him. 

But a new order of things was instituted. 


io6 The Poorhouse Lark. 

Vailette^s bank was given a prominent place on a 
bracket in her room and every penny which she 
received was as carefully hoarded, as previously its 
companions had been lavishly spent. 

Why this was, no one suspected and her reputa- 
tion for strange freaks enabled her to carry out her 
plan unquestioned and unmolested. 


The Stirred Nest. 


107 


CHAPTER XXL 

THE STIRRED NEST. 

an eagle stirreth up her nest, fluttereth over 
her young, spreadeth abroad her wings, taheth 
them, beareth them on her wings: 

^'So the Lord alone did lead them, and there was 
no strange Gad with themf^ 

— Deuteronomy 32, 11-12. 

So in human experience the nest is sometimes 
stirred. 

Foundations supposed to be strong are swept 
away. Shining hopes which lured, prove but as 
the mirage of the desert and after leading on and 
on, vanish in air, leaving the heart disappointed 
and stricken. 

The treasures which promised so much in the 
gel ting, become corrupted by moth and rust, and 
the disappointed, dissatisfied heart turns hither 
and thither in its restless longing. 

Like the young eaglets turned out of the shelter- 
ing nest the soul feels set adrift, and in its help- 
lessness, wavers and dutters, and utters its cries 
of distress, but as the mother eagle with out- 
stretched wings comes to the rescue of her jiurs- 


io8 The Poorhouse Lark. 

lings in their real and felt need, so God is ever 
ready through his sheltering, protecting, upbear- 
ing power, to respond to the call of man^s felt 
need. 

Did the eaglets always remain in the sheltering 
nest the God-given power of their soaring wings 
would be undeveloped. 

They would grovel upon earth instead of cleav- 
ing the upper air in grand, powerful flight, and 
their useless Avings would stand as a mocking re- 
minder of what might have been. 

So, too, as long as man is satisfled with low de- 
sires, there is little hope of real betterment. 

It is Avhen the nest is stirred and the' power of 
worldliness wanes that the soul cries out for the 
stay, shelter and support of the Divine wing. 

During her strange visit, narrated in a previous 
chapter. Crazy Luce had given the Ashtons food 
for thought, and indirectly wrought for them 
great good. 

There was little sleep in the Ashton home on the 
night following her visit. They would have given 
a considerable sum of their treasured store of 
money, for another hour^s interview with their 
strange caller. But that was out of the question 
for they had no idea as to whither she had gone. 

Strange as it must have seemed to her, and also 
to the wonderment of those who noticed it, the 
next morning before she could possibly have fln- 
ished churning and working her butter and putting 
her house in order, Mrs. Ashton put on her Sunday 
bonnet and dolman, and called on two of her 
neighbors — a thing she had not done before since 
nobody knew when. 


The Stitred Nest 


109 


But the limit was reached. Even her cold, 
selfish heart cried out for sympathy. She must 
know whether these neighbors with whom Crazy 
Luce had stopped, knew aught concerning a child 
of Etholine’s, or concerning the present where- 
abouts of Crazy Luce. 

In one direction her call was useless, but not in 
all. 

She could not gain the information sought, but 
the ice was broken, and never again were the Ash- 
tons so completely isolated. The kind-hearted 
neighbors now pitied those whom they had for- 
merly either ignored or held in different measures 
of contempt in proportion as they had felt the 
power of their hard, grasping selfishness. 

The neighbors began to remark that the Ash- 
tons seemed different. 

A poor man whose cow was killed on the rail- 
road, was astonished beyond measure when Mr. 
Ashton told him that if he would come and get it, 
he might have a quart of milk from his best Jer- 
sey cow, every day until he was able to buy another 
cow. 

Another neighbor — one with whom Crazy Luce 
stopped when on her strange visit — had it to tell 
for a long time, that Mrs. Ashton stayed with her 
little girl two nights in one week, during an at- 
tack of measles. 

What was the influence which was softening 
and refining these cold, selfish natures ? 

Man rebels against the life disciplines which 
show unto him his true self, and .shrinks from the 
refining fires which consume his dross. But with- 
out the former who would rise to a higher plane of 


no 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


living ? And it is only through the test of the cru- 
cible that the burnished gold attains unto its beau- 
tiful seemliness. 

So long as the selfishness on which it feeds 
is the sonFs chosen diet, where is the hope of its 
healthy growth and development ? 

Poisonous food no more vitiates the physical 
system, than does that which it represents, vitiate 
man’s higher organism. 

So long as the Ashtons looked upon their worldly 
store as being the kernel instead of the husk and 
hugged the delusion of wealth as a satisfying por- 
tion, there was little hope of their moral better- 
ment. 

It was when husks became an unsatisfying por- 
tion, that the Prodigal returned to his father’s 
house. 

So it was when these two, now in the decline of 
life, stopped to consider what the years had 
brought to them, and to realize the part which they 
had taken in this bringing, that there began to 
mingle in their desires, an undefined longing 
for some hitherto unrecognized good. 

Farmer Ashton was the son of Christian parents 
who in his early childhood had carefully instructed 
him in the great principles of Christ-like living. 
But he was early orphaned, and then it seemed as 
though the instructions of those early years were 
so much labor lost. True, now and then memory 
would bring to mind some early learned precept, 
but in general this did not accord with present 
living, and he gladly banished it, if might be, from 
his thoughts, as a disturbing element. 

But as years advanced, and as one after another 


The Stirred Nest. 


in 


earth^s fascinations loosened their grasp, he began 
to think more of these early teachings. 

So much did his mind run in this direction, 
that one day he took down the old family Bible, 
which had been carefully cherished all these 
years, on account of the family record which it con- 
tained. 

The leaves of this Bible were yellow with age, 
and its leather binding was worn and discolored 
with use. 

The use was a thing of the past, for the pres- 
ent owner could certainly lay claim to none of its 
wear. 

It cannot in truth be said that he brushed the 
dust from its covers, for dust was something on 
which Mrs. Ashton waged a perpetual warfare. 

But he took his handkerchief and drew it across 
the book as if in obedience to the consciousness 
that it had lain unused so very, very long. 

He was slow in opening the sacred volume. His 
eyes were fixed upon its covers as though there 
he read w^hat was to him of absorbing interest. 
But really, his thoughts were far away. In 
memory he relived the long-ago. Again a little 
boy stood beside his mother^s knee while she 
opened up to his childish mind the Scriptures 
as contained in this very same volume. 

These commandments his mother had taught 
him faithfully, one by one, and the years had 
not obliterated them from his memory. 

In general he did not wish to think of them, 
but now he felt inclined to see whether he could 
repeat them all word for word, as he used to do. 

^Thou shalt have no other gods before Me.’^ 


II2 


The Poorhouse Lark, 


Yes, that was the first commandment, and feeling 
snre that he had faithfully recalled it, he was about 
to pass on to the next. But his attention held him 
fast to the one already repeated. 

‘^ 1^0 other gods before Me.^^ He recalled the ex- 
planation which his mother had given him of that 
passage, and he knew in his own experience the 
real meaning of those suggestive words. 

He could not hide from himself the conscious- 
ness that all his life long he had been living in 
direct violation of this first of all the command- 
ments. 

He had been wont to consider himself a good sort 
of man, even better than some of his neighbors 
whose name stood on the church roll. 

The commandments to which he had given most 
attention were those found in the latter part of 
the decalogue. 

As to killing and stealing, he felt a large sense 
of saintliness, and who could accuse him of covet- 
ousness, or of bearing false witness against his 
neighbor ? 

But somehow, he did not feel satisfied, for there 
in all its prominence stood that first of all the 
commandments: ^Thou shalt have no other gods 
before 

These thoughts were so troublesome that he 
sought to forget them by turning to the family 
record, to which he now gave clo.se attention, but 
his e-uccess was only partial. Deep as was their 
interest to him, the dates of births, marriages and 
deaths failed for the time to hold the hist place 
in his thoughts. 

That place was occupied by that troublesome 


The Stirred Nest. 


1^3 


first commandment. Then he cursed himself for 
a fool and an idiot, and returning the Bible to its 
place, he passed into the kitchen, where, noticing 
that the hands of the large, old-fashioned clock 
pointed to the time for doing the evening milking, 
he took his palmleaf hat down from its peg, and 
going to a bench beside the milkhouse took up 
some pails and entered the milking yard. 

The streams of milk as they echoed on the bright 
tin pails, sang the refrain: ^^ISTo other gods,^^ and 
the snowy froth, as it rose higher and higher, 
seemed as never before, to stand as an emblem 
of what his life had proved in its present power to 
satisfy the deep, strange unrest and disquiet of 
his soul. 

He astonished the chore-boy that night by telling 
him that he might go and set his fish-hooks, and he 
would turn away the cows. 

The boy considered this an act of great gen- 
erosity on the part of Mr. Ashton, but really the 
latter's motive was self-interest. He wanted the 
solitary walk involved. 

Accompanied by his faithful dog, Towser, whose 
recognized duty it was to act on such occasions, 
he followed the plodding herd in its zigzag wind- 
ings down the lane, then over the stretch of road 
which intervened ere the pasture was reached. 

Like his master, Towser had outlived the days 
of his youth. Once he was fleet of foot and nimble 
in movement, but age had impaired his agility and 
turned his puppy bark into the sonorous bow-bow 
of age. Once the Jerseys had feared to halt when 
Towser said ^^march on," but now many a tempting 
tuft of grass was cropped by the wayside while 


114 Poorhouse Lark. 

his dogship held watch and ward over some other 
portion of the herd. 

But on this evening, Towser, like his master, 
seemed lost in meditation as he trotted along by the 
farmer^s side instead of in his usual position as 
watcher and warder. 

At other times Towser would have received a 
rough command to attend to his business, but now 
the cold, selfish, ignorant man took unwonted 
pleasure in the companionship of his old friend of 
canine species. 

There had come over him in his strange unrest, 
such a feeling of indescribable loneliness — a want 
which recognized no satisfaction — a hungering 
beyond earth’s portions to supply — a thirst which 
was unquenchable at the fountains which minister 
only to carnal desires. 

In his present mood there was power in the silent 
S3^mpathy seemingly vouchsafed by Towser, and, — 
strange act for him — the farmer stooped down 
and patted the head of the old dog, an act which so 
elated Towser that he set off at his best speed and 
soon had every grazing bovine back in the ranks, 
and the whole herd sedately marching through the 
bar-way into the pasture. 

Turning his steps homeward, as Mr. Ashton 
passed along the highway he met a tramp — an old 
man like himself. 

The tramp was of tottering gate and imbecile 
look, with garments in such tatters that even Tow- 
ser with his weight of years had hard work to 
show sufficient respect to age to refrain from a 
snap of his dull old teeth at the heels of the worn- 
out shoes. 


The Stirred Nest. 


ns 


With an expression to Towser that did not iseem 
designed for ears polite, the vagrant turned to 
Mr. Ashton with a slowly drawn out and quavery 
— ^^Hello, stranger! You\e tramped a good 
many years as well as me, and I wonder if it^s to 
as little purpose. I\e cursed both God and man 
because I^m such an outcast, but I begin to think 
mebby IM better turn my cussih^ in on myself, 
fer I ha’n^t been no great shakes anyway, and I 
guess if Vd served God as faithfully as I have 
the Devil, I should have more satisfaction now.^^ 

replied Mr. Ashton, haVt much to 
boast of,^^ and with that he dropped a coin into the 
vagrant^s hand, and the two passed on their respec- 
tive ways. 

Some unusual influence must have wrought 
upon Mr. Ashton to have induced the giving of 
that coin to the repulsive looking stranger, for 
had he not long made his boast that his hard- 
earned money was not to give away? 

Truth was, this was to him one of those life 
experiences when great effects result from little 
causes — when the right word at the right time, 
even though it comes through a strange channel — 
tends to the accomplishing of far-reaching results. 

Unwittingly that old vagrant had supplied the 
missing link in his chain of reflection — suggested 
the remedy for his unrest through the conscious- 
ness of a life devoted to the serving of other gods 
than He to whom supreme service is due, and 
from that hour there sprang up within that with- 
ered, shriveled heart, a true desire to devote the lit- 
tle of life that remained to him, to the service of 
Him whose right it is to claim superiority over all 
other gods. 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


1 16 


CHAPTEK XXL 

STRANGE HAPPENINGS. 

man^s chimney is his golden milestone — 
is the central point from which he measures every 
distance through the gateways of the world around 
him/' 

There was intense excitement in the Ashton 
home. Crazy Luce had again appeared, this time 
on a flying visit, coming from nobody knew where, 
or for what purpose, and when her mission was ac- 
complished, passing on her way, as usual. 

She was little changed since her former visit, ex- 
cept that inexorable Time had deepened his traces 
until not a dark thread marred the snowy white- 
ness of her hair, and her face and form had also 
yielded somewhat to his resistless power. 

Her dress was as striking as ever. A blouse 
waist of lavender set ofl her sallow complexion 
with most unpleasant effect; her skirt was of red 
and black, and the whole costume was plentifully 
besprinkled with bows of green ribbon. A string 
of bright red beads encircled her neck, and her hat 
would have done well for an exhibit in a dime 
museum. 


Strange H appenings. 1 1 7 

But time was precious with her now, and she 
had not a minute to spare. She came in unan- 
nounced, just as the Ashtons were sitting down to 
supper. She said not a word, but walking up to 
Mrs. Ashton, drew from her pocket a newspaper 
which .she laid beside Mrs. Ashton’s plate, and be- 
fore the astonished Ashtons had time to recover 
from their surprise far enough to speak to her, she 
was gone. 

The paper proved to be a copy of the Burleigh 
Chronicle, and among its items was a notice of an 
entertainment which was to be given in the Opera 
House in Burleigh, in which Miss Yailette McCrae 
played a conspicuous part. The item closed with 
a special reference to Miss McCrae, who was 
spoken of as a prodigy, both in music and elocu- 
tion, taking into consideration her youth and the 
limited training which she had enjoyed. 

As her eye caught this notice, she trembled so 
she could not speak. Her face was ghastly white 
as she held the paper toward her husband, who took 
it and read the marked item. 

For some time neither spoke. Then it was the 
husband who broke the silence with — ^^We must 
go.’’ 

Go ! Go clear to Burleigh ! Ordinarily, Mrs. 
Ashton would almost as soon have thought of going 
to the moon as to Burleigh, and now her head was 
too confused to think at all. 

Why, she had never been on the cars but once 
in her life, and then, as she expressed it, she ^Vas 
nigh frightened to death with the dreadful noise 
and clatter.” 

Her horizon was bounded by her own chimney, 


iio The Poorhouse Lark. 

or at least b}^ the fence which enclosed their farm, 
and she had little idea of or interest in, the world 
outside. 

Quite a sum of money would not have tempted 
her to take this trip, and she could onlv think of it 
as a ^^terrible undertaking.'’^ But her mother- 
heart told her that she must see whether this was 
Etholine’s child, and this settled the matter. 

Supper was a meal untasted by the Ashtons that 
night. 

The next morning Mr. Ashton said to his wife at 
breakfast: ^^Fm goin^ to the village this mornin^, 
and you’d better go along and git something to fix 
yerself up right smart, for we don’t want to go 
lookin’ like beggars if we’re goin’ to Burleigh,” 
and thus the matter was settled for good and all. 

The clerks in the village store could scarcely 
believe their ears when they heard Mrs. Ashton 
call for the best black silk the store afforded. A 
lady in attendance helped her to select a dress suit- 
able for traveling, and, producing a pattern book, 
told her just how to have it made. 

Then a wrap was bought, and also a bonnet, and 
when Mrs. Ashton reached home she remarked to 
her husband: ^T’m more tired than if I had done 
a two-days’ churning and a two-weeks’ washing.” 

The experiences of the next week are better 
imagined than described. The work of getting 
ready and of leaving the house in order were as 
nothing to the alternation of hope and fear — ^the 
intense longings, and the dread lest disappoint- 
ment mock their hopes and leave them more child- 
less and stricken than before. 

Many times they went back to Crazy Luce’s visit 


Strange Happenings. 119 

and wondered what her motive conld have been in 
the part which she acted. 

Did memories of the past lead her to seek re- 
venge by exciting in them false hopes and expec- 
tations to be blasted when they should find that 
another bore the name which might mean so much 
to them, or was the child bound to someone who 
could not be induced to give her up ? Or was this 
some freak of her disordered imagination, which 
meant nothing to them in any way ? 

Sometimes they almost decided to give up the 
trip. 

Then again hope revived, and all considerations 
which weighed in ibis direction were sternly set 
aside. 

At last the morning came for them to set out 
on that mission, which might niean to them so 
much of joy or mark their inexpressible disap- 
pointment. 

Breakfa'^t finished, they dressed for their jour- 
ney and then, although it lacked two hours of train 
time, and the distance was but a mile, they had the 
team brought up and drove to the depot. 

In their nervous haste the time of waiting 
seemed many times its real length. Mrs. Ashton 
wished over and over again that she had taken 
her knitting work. It seemed such a waste of time, 
and she could have knit a long piece on her hus- 
band’s sock. 

Mr. Ashton showed his contempt for his wife’s 
foolishness by bravely pacing the platform with 
his hands behind him, the meantime taking out his 
watch every five minutes, feeling sure that it must 
have been at least a quarter of an hour since his 


120 The Poorhouse Lark, 

last looL and every now and then going to the 
ticket office to ask the ticket agent if he was sure 
the cars were not behind time. 

But as he will, whether men wish to hasten or 
stay them, Time moved on his wheels until the 
hands of the depot clock indicated the near ap- 
proach of train time. 

Then other passengers began to arrive. First 
came another aged farmer and his wife, the latter 
of whom explained most explicitly to Mrs. Ashton 
that they had got their haying done and thought 
they would go to Bedford and see their daughter, 
Jane Ann, whom they had not seen in two years or 
more. 

Then came three school girds with their satchels 
of books and their giggle, and following closely 
was a whole family, with an enormous lunch 
basket, which indicated that they were bound either 
for a long journey or a picnic, it was difficult to 
determine which. 

So they came, one after another, each with his 
own interests, going forth into the unknown; some 
with anxiety written on their faces and nervous- 
ness in their movements, as though they foreboded 
evil on their untried way, and some with happi- 
ness in every feature, as though life in general were 
a holiday to them, and they saw only pleasure in 
the present going forth. 

Last, but not least, came a young couple, whose 
spick and span attire and conscious air marked 
them as newly married, and made them the ob- 
served of all observers. 

At the distant sound of the car whistle, Mrs. 
Ashton clutched her handbag and umbrella and 


I2I 


Strange Happenings, 

started to find her spouse, and it was well that she 
had laid fast hold of her belongings in time, for 
the rush and roar of the incoming train almost 
took her breath away, and this, together with the 
jostling of the crowd, confused her so that she 
afterward remarked to Mr. Ashton that she ^^Didn^t 
know B from broomstick,^^ when he came to her as- 
sistance. 

Once seated on the train, both breathed more 
freely than they had done since leaving home, and 
settled themselves for what was to them a long trip. 


122 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


CHAPTER XXIL 

THE LETTER. 

There's a divinity that shapes our ends. 
Rough-hew them how we will/' 

Yailette’s sixteenth birthday was marked by a 
surprise party, which Dr. Snell had insisted should 
be given in her honor. 

At first Miss Elvira demurred. To her it seemed 
a little too much like pomps and vanities to have 
anything quite so elaborate as Dr. Snell insisted 
on this being, but Dan knew how to put the matter 
in a way to make it satisfactory to her mind, and 
he used his best efforts in that direction, until his 
cause was so thoroughly won, that Miss Elvira 
spent the entire day in preparation, while Dr. Snell 
took Yailette and Dan with him to visit a patient 
in a distant town, where they had long planned to 
go together. 

During the day Crazy Luce had called at Dr. 
SnelFs and seemed disappointed in not finding 
Yailette at home. While Miss Elvira was out on 
an errand, she went up into Yailette’s room and 
placing an old-looking, crumpled letter on a dress- 
ing bureau, which stood near a gas jet, she quickly 


The Letter. 


123 

retreated and resumed the seat which she was oc- 
cupying when Miss Elvira left the room. 

She seemed nervous and restless, and although 
Miss Elvira tried to induce her to stay and wit- 
ness Yailette's party, about the middle of the after- 
noon she went on her wa3^ 

The party was a grand success, as one might 
know it would bo if once Miss Elvira took it in 
hand with a will, and the evening flew by as if on 
wings. 

It was midnight when Vailette went to her room. 
Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes bright with 
the excitement which had marked the evening’s 
unexpected pleasure. 

For a moment she paused before the mirror, and 
there came to lier mind some of the many flattering 
compliments with which the evening had abounded. 
But think of them as she would, none pleased her 
so much as Dan’s honest : never saw you look so 

well as you do to-night, Lettie.” 

It v/as at his suggestion that she had worn a 
white cashmere dress, and he had brought her as 
his birthday gift, some deep crimson roses and buds 
from a conservatory, which she wore with most 
charming effect. 

Then she unpinned the roses and put them in 
Miss Elvira’s Parian marble vase, which, on ac- 
count of its delicate beauty, she always reserved for 
her choicest blossoms. 

ISText she unclasped from her wrist a slender 
bracelet — Dr. Snell’s present — and unfastened a 
substantial gold pin, which Miss Elvira had said 
was to fasten her collar when she wore one. 

Miss Elvira could never quite become recon- 


124 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


ciled to the absence of white neckwear for women. 

Passing to the dressing bureau to deposit her 
treasures, her eye caught sight of the letter which 
Crazy Luce had left. 

She examined the superscription closely, but did 
not recognize the penmanship. It seemed like the 
work of an aged hand, so tremulous and irregular. 

She almost feared to open it. Somehow there 
came over her a foreboding of evil for which she 
could not account. 

Again she looked at the letter, this time to de- 
termine the postmark, but there was none, and she 
now noticed what she had not before observed, that 
it bore no stamp and was unsealed. 

Then her curiosity came to the rescue, and with 
trembling fingers she drew forth the sheet and 
read: 

Darling Vailette : 

^Tong before you read this letter I shall have left 
you, and God only knows the circumstances under 
which it will meet your eyes if it reaches you at all. 

I have deferred its writing too long, and am 
now too weak to write much, but cannot leave you 
without these few parting words, which I will en- 
trust to Crazy Luce, to be given you whenever she 
may think best, if her mind keeps its balance suf- 
ficiently to enable her to act in accordance with my 
desire at all. 

Had I strength I would write out for you, 
yours and my history, but I turn to the most 
important things which are on my mind, lest 
I fail in these, for weakness grows upon me and 
even now I find it difficult to think clearly and con- 
nectedly. 


The Letter. 


125 


“Should your Grandfather Ashton’s people ever 
seek you out, as I am confident they will if they 
learn of your existence, of which I have little doubt 
Crazy Luce will inform them when it .suits the pur- 
pose of her freaky mind, it is my wish that if they 
so desire, you go to them and be to them a daugh- 
ter in their declining years. 

^^If you learn aught of their history or of mine 
in the past, let it not weigh with you against any 
effort for their good, but be to them a daughter in 
the truest sense of that word. 

^^Eemember that age has infirmities with which 
youth with its overflow of joys can well afford to be 
patient ; and perchance you may prove unto them a 
minister of good to lead them to higher considera- 
tions than their earlier life knew. 

^‘1 also commend unto you Crazy Luce, who has 
taught me more of Christ than any other person I 
have known. In her sane moments she has always 
seemed to me a close imitation of her divine Mas- 
ter, and even when her unsettled mind in its wan- 
derings dv/ells on the past, she never seems to lose 
her grasp of faith on the hand of the loving 
Heavenly Father. 

^^What she has been to me, only God knows, and 
no effort on your part can fully repay her for her 
devotion to me and to yourself. 

^^My strength is almost gone, but I must say a 
word more, and let these, your mothers dying 
words, sink deep into your heart and bring forth 
fruit in your life: Be true to your womanhood, 
make the most of yourself, and may God help 
and keep you. Your loving mother, 

^^Etholine McCrae.” 


126 The Poorhouse Lark. 

What else happened that nighty Vailette could 
never tell. 

The next morning she found herself lying on 
the outside of her bed with her party dress still 
on, and the crumpled letter lying on the floor be- 
side her. 

She picked it up and re-read it with mingled 
emotions. It was to her a connecting link between 
the happy present and the dark past which she 
would so gladly have blotted out of mind. 

The memory of her mother she cherished most 
sacredly, but the associations which clustered 
around cast a darkening shadow over her early rec- 
ollections. 

As she took in their real meaning, her mother^s 
words seemed to her more and more a voice out of 
the unknown, and those closing words entered her 
soul and burned themselves there as with living 
fire. Hitherto her life had been so light, free and 
careless, but now she felt a sudden weight resting 
upon her as though she was confronted with a 
mighty responsibility with which she must cope 
and for encounter with which she must summon all 
the strength of which she was master. 

‘^Be true to your womanhood, and make the most 
of yourself.^^ How those words inspired her. In 
that moment of intensity of soul she felt equal to 
anything. It was one of those transition stages 
when in a short space the soul makes great istrides, 
either toward good or ill. But she had yet to learn 
that to be true to one’s better self requires more 
than a momentary purpose, and to make the most 
of one’s self means a lifelong struggle. 

The reference to her grandparents had struck a 


The Letter. 


127 


chord which vibrated intensely. She knew no kin 
except the father whom she knew only to her shame 
and disgrace, and the thought that she might have 
those whom she conld really love, filled her with 
delight. Who and where were they? Conld she 
gain information from Crazy Lnce? She would 
see. But the ringing of the rising bell by Miss El- 
vira’s firm hand, taught the necessity of putting 
aside all but practical thoughts, and she came back 
to present duty. She must seem as usual when she 
went down to breakfast, for no one must see that 
anything unusual had occurred. 

During breakfast Miss Elvira spoke of Luce’s 
visit on the previous day, and said that she seemed 
to be setting out on one of her trips, but that she 
would give no clue as to where she was going. 

Yailette listened with intense interest and was 
greatly disappointed at the conclusion of Miss El- 
vira’s remarks. What would she not have given to 
go to Luce and try to induce her to talk about 
the letter. But Luce was far away on a mission 
which would accomplish for her beyond her fondest 
hopes. 

So in life we are often saddened and disap- 
pointed when things go counter to our wishes and 
wills. But the very clouds which darken our path- 
way are sometimes those which gleam brightest 
with silver linings. 


128 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

THE ENTERTAINMENT. 

^'The web of our life is of mingled yam, good 
and ill together/" — Shakespeare. 

The spacious Opera House was crowded, for 
Burleigh’s school entertainments were worthy of 
note, and this one being included in Commence- 
ment week, no pains had been spared to make it 
the best of its kind. 

All Burleigh was there. Men of learning oc- 
cupied conspicuous places, wealth had its due of 
respect shown, fine costumes were not ignored, and 
it was not difficult to guess who were peroonal 
favorites with the ushers. 

Some time before the doors of the hall were 
open to the public, an old man and woman had ap- 
peared upon the scene and sought entrance. 

They were well dressed, but their manners plain- 
ly bespoke lack of acquaintance with the world 
and with social ways. 

They gazed around like children on their first 
outing, and spoke to each other in not too low 
tones, of everything which specially attracted their 
attention. 


The Entertainment. 


129 


Passing up to the platform, they discoursed on 
the decorations. The old man said that ^Them 
things^^ — referring to some palms — ^dooked like 
some weeds that grew in the lower medder by the 
creek/^ and his companion replied : 

^^The posies are quite pnrty, hut it’s an awful 
pity to spend time and garden room raisin^ on ^em 
when onions bring so much a bushel and redishes 
sell so unusual high.'’^ Mrs. Ashton^s mind could 
not forget its drift toward the ^^almighty dollar/^ 
even under the leaning toward other things which 
now held it in check. 

The ushers were not over-pleased with the un- 
timely appearance of this uncouth couple, as was 
manifest in various ways, but the one on whose do- 
main they had specially trespassed, was the best- 
natured, most really courteous one of all, and he 
took it upon himself to dispose of the case. 

He could see what an occasion like this might be 
to these aged ones whose lives had probably been 
spent in retirement, and who had mingled little 
with the social world in any way. 

He went to them, spoke to them kindly, took 
them around the hall, listened attentively to their 
remarks, and answered politely their various ques- 
tions, though he knew that the other boys were on 
the watch, and would laugh at him afterward. 
Then, looking at his watch, he casually remarked 
that people would be coming in soon, and excused 
himself by giving them two of the most desirable 
seats in the room. 

It was not of the comparative values of posies 
and onions that the two thought now. As the peo- 
ple came in they watched them closely, and as from 


130 The Poorhouse Lark. 

where they sat they had a good view of the en- 
trance doors, this was a work of time. 

As the entertainment commenced they became ' 
interested and almost forgot their mission in list- 
ening to the exercises. 

N’ot being familiar with the customs of such en- 
tertainments, they made no use of their pro- 
grammes, consequently they had no idea of the 
names of those who took part in the exercises. 

Eager-eyed and anxious-faced they watched, each 
wondering what was in the mind of the other, and 
fearing lest the whole undertaking prove a failure. 

The applause which followed a fine recitation 
had died away, and there came upon the stage a 
young lady with a violin in her hand. 

She was of handsome face and comely form, and 
seemed thoroughly at home in her position. 

Her manner had about it what would have 
passed for a touch of boldness, but for the quiet 
dignity with which it was mingled, and her dress 
was well suited to the occasion. 

She wore no ornaments of any kind, except a 
cluster of rosebuds, which were arranged with most 
charming effect. 

She was greeted with prolonged applause, which 
she received ‘^^as to the manner bom,^^ and then 
she slowly raised her violin, adjusted it to her mind 
and drew the bow across the strings. 

She had come upon the platform through an en- 
trance on the side of the hall on which the Ashtons 
were sitting, and they did not get a good view 
of her face until she struck the strings of her vio- 
lin. Then Mr. Ashton bent forward with wild, 
eager eyes, and Mrs. Ashton fainted dead away, 


The Entertainment. 131 

for to both it seemed as if their Etholine again 
stood before them, so striking was the resemblance 
of this girl to their child. 

The nsher who had befriended them was Dan, 
and for some reason for which he could not ac- 
count, they possessed for him a strange attraction, 
and he had watched them all the evening. 

He saw the effect which Vailette^s appearance 
produced upon them, and he was at hand to assist 
them from the hall to an ante-room. Then he 
quietly called his father, who happened to be in 
his office, which was near, and seeing that his serv- 
ices were not further required, he returned to the 
hall. 

Mrs. Ashton was long in recovering conscious- 
ness, and Mr. Ashton was like a child in his at- 
tempts to do som.ething to facilitate matters. Hav- 
ing a vague idea that her bonnet ought to be re- 
moved, he pulled the trimming off the top instead 
of unfastening the ties, and deluged the front of 
her dress with water, instead of applying it to her 
face, according to prescribed form. 

He asked Dr. Snell every two minutes if she 
^VasnT better,^^ and laughed immoderately when 
she finally opened her e3^es and spoke to him. 

In professional manner. Dr. Snell searched for 
the cause of this strange and sudden attack, and 
then the story all came out. Dr. Snell returned 
to his office to fight the severest battle of his life, 
and to determine what ought to be done and what 
part it was his to play in this painful drama. 


132 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

EXCHANGED CONFIDENCES. 

“Life seems so deep, so awful in meaning, and 
infinite — infinite in its results. It is like an ocean 
with great storms traveling over it always, and 
many enemies. Yet every one must venture/' 

— H. W. Beecher. 

^^WiLL you go and drive for me this morning, 
Vailette? I am going over by the stone mill, 
where I have several patients.^^ 

It was Dr. Snell who spoke, just as the family 
rose from the breakfast table on the morning after 
the school entertainment. 

The stone mill was near the Poorhouse, and Dr. 
Snell doubted whether Yailette would want to go, 
but looking up brightly she replied : 

^^Yes, 1^11 go if Miss Elvira can spare me from 
washing dishes,^^ and after a little she added de- 
murely, ^^and breaking tea cups.^^ 

Breaking dishes had been one of Vailette’s 
faults — a fault which to Miss Elvira^s mind 
amounted almost to a crime. 

Miss Elvira readily gave her consent, for she 
knew why Dr. Snell wished an interview with Yail- 
ette on this particular morning. He had told her 


Exchanged Confidences. 133 

of his interview with the Ashtons, and appealed to 
her strong sense of right to determine what ought 
to be done in the case. 

But for once Miss Elvira declined to give an 
opinion. 

She had said her say about the child’s coming, 
but Dr. Snell must determine for himself with re- 
gard to her going. 

^^The parties concerned must do their own talk- 
ing. But,” she added, sententiously, without 
thought of going back on what she had already 
said, ^Vhat’s to hinder letting Vailette decide the 
matter. She’ll probably know where she prefers 
to live, and she is the person most concerned.” 

Dr. Snell visited no patient that day that was 
more nervous than he, as he took his seat beside 
Vailette. 

How could he tell her the story he had to tell ? 
He loved her as his own daughter, and this might 
mean the giving her up for life. 

Ho sleep had visited his eyes on the previous 
night. He had prayed to he directed aright, and 
sought to see his duty clearly, but as yet he had 
reached no definite conclusion. He shrank from 
speaking of the matter to Vailette, for he knew 
how she disliked any reference to her parentage 
or her early life. 

Vailette, in the meantime, was also burdened. 
She wanted to show her letter to Dr. Snell, but 
did not know how to bring it about. Finally she 
summoned courage to do so, and then the ice was 
broken between them, and they exchanged con- 
fidences freely. 

Dr, Snell found himself speaking to her of her 


134 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


grandparents as freely and easily as thongh she 
had always known them, and, hard as it was for 
him, preparing her mind to love them as her 
mother desired. 

The stone mill was reached before either had 
thought of its proximity, and his patients claimed 
the doetoPs attention. 

As they were about to return home, Vailette 
surprised Dr. Snell by asking him to take her to 
the Poorhouse. 

He looked at her in astonishment, but as she 
insisted, he complied. 

As they approached the building Vailette trem- 
bled so and became so pale that Dr. Snell wished 
her to give up the attempt and return home, 
but she refused. 

There were few of the inmates of the Poorhouse 
who recognized Vailette, a fact which she did not 
regret. As the carriage drove up Harding gave 
his peculiar grin of recognition, and Sarah Con- 
lis seldom failed to recognize a face which she 
had once known. 

Vailette had hoped to find Crazy Luce, but 
she was disappointed. The Matron said she had 
been absent several days, and there was no tell- 
ing when she would return. 

The Poorhouse was little changed, for Charity 
had not been in haste to bring about changes. 
Obtaining the matron^s permission, Vailette 
went alone to the room that had been her 
mother’s. Sitting down on the one splint-bot- 
tomed chair which the room afforded, she buried 
her face in her hands and burst into tears. But 
soon she dried her eyes and taking her mother’s 


Exchanged Confidences. 135 

letter from her pocket, ghe read it again, al- 
though every word was already impressed upon 
her memory. 

Then she knelt beside the chair, and after first 
repeating a little prayer which her mother had 
there taught her, she sought Divine help to carry 
out the spirit of her mother^s letter. 

When she returned to Dr. Snell she was calm 
and bright again, but he could not help feeling 
that she was changed. 

He had always thought of her as a child, but 
the calm dignity of womanhood was here and 
he realized the wisdom of Miss Elvira^’s sugges- 
tion, that she be allowed a voice in the determin- 
ing of her future. 

And thus it was settled satisfactorily to all 
parties. 

Yailette was to go to her grandparents for one 
year, and then decide for herself whether she 
remain with them or return to Dr. Snell. 


136 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


CHAPTEE XXV. 

ON THE PIAZZA. 

^^Hearis, you Tcnow, are wonderfully made. 
They are liJce the sun who sends his rays every- 
where, and loses neither warmth nor light hy 
giving much, hut gives to all their due/' 

— George Ebers. 

Again the scene opens on the piazza of the Ash- 
ton farmhouse. Mrs. Ashton occupies the same 
chair in much the same place as formerly. Mr. 
Ashton is seated upon the upper doorstep, and 
beside him is Vailette who is alternately chatting 
and singing old-time songs which her grandfather 
calls for. 

It is more than two months since Vailette came 
to her grandfather^s home. Then summer was at 
its height, but now autumn has begun his reign. 

Then promise of future good animated the 
husbandman^s heart and now he is entering into 
the reward of his labors. 

The smaller grains have been garnered, but the 
golden corn still awaits its husking, and the red 
and golden apples still deck the trees. 

Although he really stood in the autumn of 
life, to Mr. Ashton tins seemed more a springtime 


On the Piazza. 


137 


than he had known in many years. Since that 
eventful evening when his dwarfed, shriveled, 
soul had taken in the great thought advanced by 
the tramp, that in the service of God lay the high- 
est good, and had let this thought develop into a 
living purpose and an earnest striving to enter 
upon that service, a new life had awakened within 
him. Self no longer claimed his supreme atten- 
tion and he did not worship so exclusively as 
formerly at the shrine of dollars and cents. 

Then, too, the coming of Vailette had been to 
him an untold blessing. When once he had dug 
down through the dust and ashes which covered 
his heart and it had been brought into the light 
of love. Divine and human, he began to see at- 
tractions in things which before he had passed 
by as naught to him. He found that really he had 
a heart to enter into the interests of youth, and 
thus entering in, he grew younger and less sordid 
in heart and in life. 

Mrs. Ashton, too, seemed to go back to the days 
when Etholine was young, and as then, she set 
aside butter money for new dresses and hats, and 
watched the rise and fall of the price --of hen’s 
eggs as when such sums went for school books and 
new ribbons. 

On the evening referred to, when Vailette had 
finished singing to her grandfather and Towser, 
throwing back her tangled curls she turned to the 
former and said: 

^^Grandfather, you know you promised to give me 
your early history some time — why not now?” 

Then the old man went back to the days of his 
boyhood and gave incident after incident of his 


138 The Poorhouse Lark. 

early life — ^hard and barren incidents, for he had 
known little of childhood^s brighter, better joys 
surrounded by love and happy home life. 

It was little wonder that he grew up hard and 
cold, an acknowledgment which he had never 
been known to make before, and as Vailette lis- 
tened she could stand it no longer. Throwing 
her arm around the old man’s neck she told him 
he must not talk about that part of his life any 
more, for he was going to be happy now, and she 
could not bear to think that he had ever been 
unhappy, for he was just the dearest grandfather 
in the world, and they would try to forget all 
about what he had been saying. 

There was silence for some minutes, and then 
with an air of calm determination as though 
she had fully determined to face the matter, and 
an anxious longing as though her whole soul was 
in the request, Vailette asked to be told about her 
mother. 

It was late that night when the lights in the 
farmhouse were extinguished and its inmates 
retired to rest — a most unusual thing, the neigh- 
bors said. The full moon rose silently, passed 
slowly on her way and hid herself behind the 
highest branches of a stately elm in the Jersey’s 
pasture, long before the history of Etholine’s 
childhood was finished, and then there was her 
youth and — yes, they would speak of it — ^her mar- 
riage and its results. 

Poor Vailette ! She wept like a child, but she 
would not let them stop. She wanted to hear it 
all. 

Then, in spite of her sensitiveness on that sub- 


On the Piazza. 


139 


ject, Vailette took up the tale, going back to her 
earliest recollections which centered in the Poor- 
house, telling to most eager listeners all she 
could remember concerning her mother and also 
dwelling on the kindness of Crazy Luce. Then 
came the chapter which included Dr. Snell, in 
whose praise she could not say too much, and 
Miss Elvira came in for her share in the history. 

She finished up with Dan and it was well she 
did, for this involved the telling of so many 
funny pranks and capers, and the repeating of so 
many odd remarks that both the old people laughed 
most heartily and thus was brought about a 
healthy reaction from the sadness into which the 
former histories had thrown them. Mr. Ashton 
laughed immoderately at the account of Miss El- 
vira’s ride, and Mrs. Ashton said it was too bad 
to play tricks on such old ladies, which remark 
seemed not to the mind of the Maltese, for he 
rose, stretched himself and quitted the piazza. 

After that night these histories seemed to be- 
long to the Past as decidedly as though no men- 
tion of them had been made. 

By common consent they w^ere untouched unless 
necessity required, but these three souls were knit 
together by an indissoluble bond. 

The neighbors thought Vailette must be very 
lonely with these old people, and really it did 
seem an incongruous company. 

But where love is uncongenialities melt away. 
It is easy to overlook faults, and unpleasant 
traits of character cease to vex and fret so keenly, 
for love is the great leveler of heart differences and 
discords. 


140 The Poorhouse Lark. 

The more these old people loved Vailette the 
more they came up out of themselves and grew 
less absorbed in their self-seeking. 

Vailette, too, knew deeper love than she had 
known for any save Dr. Snell and Dan, and here 
she felt the need of making herself useful if she 
would carry out her mother^s wish. She learned 
to let young feet save steps for the aged, and her 
nimble fingers could do many things which had 
always depended for their doing on Mrs. Ashton. 

Often when Vailette went to sleep at night she 
did so wondering whether she had thus far been 
such a daughter as her mother desired. 


Adverse Seeming. 


141 


CHAPTER XXVI. 

ADVERSE SEEMING. 

''All is wot necessarily adverse that has an ad- 
verse seeming/' 

"Behind a froivning providence He hides a smil- 
ing face/' 

Dan had finished his course in the Burleigh 
High School, and was to enter a preparatory- 
school in which to fit himself for college a few 
weeks after Vailette went to the Ashton farm, 
and it was much to the satisfaction of both him- 
self and Vailette that this school was located in a 
town only a few miles distant from pBraton, a 
distance which Dan could easily compass with 
his bicycle. 

Dan was fond of study, but so strong was the 
trend of his mind toward medicine and surgery 
that he would willingly have taken up these studies 
directly on leaving the Burleigh school. 

But this was not to the mind of Dr. Snell. He 
was ambitious for Dan. He wished him to be- 
come his successor in the office where he was now 
consulted with reference to people^s ills and ails, 
but he deeply regretted his own lack of a higher 


142 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


education, and he long since determined that his 
son should have a college course. 

His plan had also included Vailette. She should 
have a musical education. He had from the first 
given her the best advantages Burleigh afforded, 
and when she was older he would see that she took 
a higher course. Perhaps he would send her 
abroad. 

But his plans were interfered with. The bank 
robbery crippled his resources to an alarming ex- 
tent, and for a time he had hard work to make the 
year’s ends meet. 

He applied himself to his practice with renewed 
zeal, and would have recovered his footing again 
but for the fact that overwork and a predisposi- 
tion to heart disease told upon his health, which 
began perceptibly to fail. 

The entire household felt the change, and it was 
interesting to note the effect upon each one. Miss 
Elvira studied economy more closely than ever, 
and even asked a reduction of her wages — a prop- 
osition to which Dr. Snell would in nowise con- 
sent. 

To Dan it was really a benefit, for it taught him 
to depend upon himself, and he learned to pick up 
jobs which would bring him money, and to do 
many things which he would not have done other- 
wise. 

Thus he not only was kept out of mischief, but 
people said that Dr. Dan was one of the best boys 
in the town for work. 

But next to Dr. Snell, Vailette was one who felt 
most deeply on this subject. If she could only do 
something to remedy the matter. But what could 


143 


Adverse Seeming. 

she do? When her little hank was filled with pen- 
nies she took it to Dr. Snell to open for himself. 

But with tears in his eyes he had returned it to 
her, and then taking her in his arms had told her 
that she was more to him than any amount of 
money and she must not think about it any more. 

But that was something which she could not 
forget, and more and more the purpose to repay 
Dr. Snell grew and strengthened within her. She 
was always glad when she could do something for 
him or Miss Elvira which would save the hiring 
of someone else. 

Together she and Dan cared, for the garden, and 
they were greatly pleased when one day at din- 
ner Miss Elvira directed the attention of Dr. Snell 
to the fact that no gardener had been employed 
that season except for plowing the ground. Best 
of all Miss Elvira closed with the remark that 
she never had better vegetables and the strawberry 
bed never had looked so well. 

She did not mention how much she had en- 
couraged the children by worldng with them now 
and then, and by directing when they were at a 
loss what to do. 

Seeing that it was his father’s wish, Dan en- 
tered upon the college project readily, and ap- 
plied himself with more than his usual zeal to the 
preparatory course, feeling that the sooner he was 
through with this course, the sooner he could enter 
on his lifework. Then, too, he had another mo- 
tive. Vailette had read to him her mother’s let- 
ter. He had seen how it inspired her to higher 
living, and he, too, had caught an impulse which 


144 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


merged into a steady purpose to make the most 
of himself. 

What seem life’s misfortunes are not always 
necessarily such. Had Dan been reared in the 
lap of luxury his was a nature that would have 
responded to the invitations of soft and silken sur- 
roundings. He was inclined toward ease and was 
not over-fond of exerting himself in any direc- 
tion. As a child he was willing that Vailette 
should feed his rabbits and weed that part of the 
onion bed which required the greatest amount 
of back-bending, and only Miss Elvira’s rigid, 
methodical discipline had saved him from being 
decidedly lazy. 

But when once he became imbued with the con- 
viction that his father’s loss of property made it 
a positive necessity for him to exert himself, there 
was a change. The latent powers which under 
other circumstances would have remained dor- 
mant, asserted themselves and urged him on 
toward true manhood. 

Dr. Dan was a favorite in Burleigh. His 
bright, happy face and genial good nature won 
his way wherever he went, and among his com- 
panions he often officiated as peacemaker, rather 
than a disturber of the peace. The boys used to 
say : ^^Dan is too lazy to get mad but be that as it 
may, they all loved him and wished to have him 
with them. Even though he was willing that 
someone else should do most of the running, a 
ball game was much more complete if Dan figured 
in it. 

Down deep in her heart. Miss Elvira had feared 
that as Dan grew older he would drift away from 


145 


Adverse Seeming. 

her, but she had no cause for fear. He minded 
her as readily at sixteen as at six and seemed 
to love her no less then than when he wore kilted 
skirts and a sailor hat. It made it somewhat 
easier for him to leave home that Vailette had 
gone, and the letters received from her gave such 
glowing accounts of her farm life that he grew 
anxious for the time to come when he might visit 
the Ashton farm. 


146 


The Poorhouse Lark, 


CHAPTEE XXVIL 

THE PRIZE CONTEST. 

**Let Mm that tMnketh he standeth take heed lest 
he fall/' 

Burleigh boasted two literary societies. One 
of these was composed largely of the men students 
of the High School and the other of a select num- 
ber of the young ladies of the town. 

Dan held the position of Secretary in the for- 
mer, and for two reasons Yailette had been in- 
vited to become a member of the latter, although 
in general none so young as she were admitted. 

These reasons were, her musical ability, and the 
fact that she could recite admirably. 

Having noticed her natural ability in that direc- 
tion, Dr. Snell had placed her under an excellent 
teacher of elocution, he being one who believed in 
having regard to native trend of mind in the mat- 
ter of education, and who also thought it desirable 
to educate girls as well as boys, in a way to fit 
them for earning their own living in case circum- 
stances made it necessary for them to do so. He 
felt if Vailette were well versed in music and elo- 
cution, were she ever thrown upon her own re- 
sources, she would have something to turn to as a 


The Prize Contest. 


147 


weapon against dependence, and he knew her na- 
ture well enough to feel assured that she would 
rouse and make her own way in the world. 

For some time a spirit of rivalry had existed 
between these two societies, and party spirit ran 
more and more high. 

The citizens of the town participated in this 
rivalry, and a prominent lawyer offered a prize to 
the society which should bear off the palm in a 
public contest in elocution. 

Each society was to choose its own representa- 
tive. The ge;atleman was to declaim and the lady 
to recite. 

The choice of each selection was to lie with the 
individual, or with his or her society as was most 
satisfactory to the parties concerned. 

The contest was to occur in connection with 
public exercises connected with the school at the 
close of the term preceding holiday week, and the 
names of the contestants were to remain a secret 
up to the time of their public appearance. 

Dan never repeated the episode of the ^^pepper- 
mint candy.^^ 

Vailette^s giggle had proved a stimulus in the 
right direction, and he had become a speaker of 
which the school was justly proud. 

He was chosen by his society to represent them 
in the prize contest, and as his school closed two 
days before the one in Burleigh, he would be at 
home at the time of the entertainment. 

When he received his invitation he declined 
it on the ground that with his school duties he had 
not time at his disposal to do the society justice. 
But his excuses were of no avail. His society 


148 The Poorhouse Lark. 

would be satisfied with an extract from one of 
Talmage^s sermons with which he had favored 
them at their last meeting previous to his leaving 
home, and with this plan he could scarcely do 
otherwise than consent. 

There was no lack in attendance or in interest 
as the school exercises proceeded, and it was re- 
marked by more than one that the prize speaking 
would have to be of a superior order to surpass 
V'hat the students had done. 

At the close of the school exercises, an expectant 
hush pervaded the audience as they waited the ap- 
pearance of the prize speakers. 

Each had his guess as to whom the contestants 
might be, but uncertainty prevailed. 

^me whispered ‘T told you so,^^ and some were 
surprised when Dr. Dan appeared as the repre- 
sentative of the men^s society. 

There was no assuming of superiority on the 
part of Dan on account of the honor conferred 
upon him. He had taken little interest in the 
rivalry that had existed between the two soeieties, 
and thought it extremely foolish that the citizens 
had taken up the matter to the extent they had. 
He was willing the other society should pass for 
best and did not care to appear against it. But 
his society had been so urgent and persistent, that 
here he was, and would do his best, though there 
were others whom he thought would have done 
better. 

The round of applause which greeted him as he 
finished speaking, indicated that the representa- 
tive of the ladies would have to do well indeed if 
she bore off the palm. 


The Prize Contest. 149 

Interest deepened as the audience waited the 
coming of the other party. 

The suspense was short, for soon she appeared, 
calm, stately and with a self-possession which 
bordered on assurance. 

The ladies had considered Yailette most capable 
of doing them credit on this occasion and she had 
been sent for for that purpose. 

She was richly dressed in a manner which she 
well knew set off her style of beauty to best ad- 
vantage, for deep down in her heart was a de- 
sire to impress Burleigh with her importance on 
this occasion. She had been highly pleased, not 
to say delighted when it became known to her that 
she, its youngest member, had been chosen by her 
society as its representative in a prize contest, 
and she felt a sort of pitying contempt for the 
man who would care to appear against her. 

Her black, flashing eyes glistened with the ex- 
citement which also tinted her cheeks most be- 
comingly. 

She had chosen to select her own recitation and 
had taken extracts from ^^The Chariot Eace’^ as 
depicted in ^^Ben Hur.^^ 

She had given much of both time and practice 
to her recitation under the best teacher she could 
find, and considered herself fully equal to the oc- 
casion in every way. 

She thought she knew at just what points she 
could touch her audience most forcibly, and took 
special pride in one of the closing scenes, where 
Ben Hur addressed his Arab steeds. 

She commenced with a description of the arena 


150 I'he Poorhouse Lark. 

where the race occurred, and then gave particulars 
of the entries and of the setting out. 

The starting was so vividly portrayed that al- 
most it seemed a present reality; and as she re- 
peated the exclamation of Iras as he pointed to 
Messala — ^^He is come — there — look instinc- 
tively many heads turned in the direction of her 
centered gaze and of her extended finger. 

Her voice was well adapted to recitation of this 
kind, and she so lost herself in her theme that 
she came out with telling power in ^Down, Eros, 
up, Mars!^ Messala shouted, whirling his lash 
with practised hand. — ‘'Down, Eros, up. Mars V he 
repeated, and gave the well doing Arabs of Ben 
Hur a cut, the like of which they had never 
known. 

‘^The four sprang forward affrighted. No hand 
had ever been laid upon them except in love ; they 
had been nurtured ever so tenderly, and as they 
grew, their confidence in man became a lesson to 
men beautiful to see. What should such dainty 
natures do under such indignity but leap as from 
deaths 

Again Vailette recognized her power and swept 
grandly on. 

^^And now, to make the turn, Messala began to 
draw in his left-hand steeds, an act which neces- 
sarily slackened their speed. 

^^His spirit was high ; more than one altar was 
richer for his vows: the Eoman Genius was still 
president. On the three pillars only six hundred 
feet away were fame, increase of fortune, promo- 
tion and a triumph ineffably sweetened by hate, all 
in store for him.'^ 


The Prize Contest. 


^51 

Here the speaker paused a moment for effect, 
and then continued: ^^That moment Malluch, in 
the gallery, saw pen Hur lean forward over his 
Arabs and give them the reins. Out flew the 
many-folded lash in his hand, over the backs of 
the startled steeds it writhed and hissed, and 
hissed and writhed again and again; and though 
it fell not there were both sting and menace in its 
quick retort; and as the man passed thus from 
quiet, to restless action, his face suffused, his eyes 
gleaming, along the reins he seemed to flash his 
will, and instantly not one, but the four as one, 
answered with a leap that landed him alongside 
the Eoman’s car. 

^^Above the noise of the race there was but 
one voice and that was Ben Hur^s, as he called to 
the Arabs : — ^On, Attair ! On, Eigel ! What, An- 
tares, dost thou linger? Good horse — oho, Alde- 
baran ! I hear them singing in the tents. I hear 
the children singing, and the women — ^ 

Yailette had reached this point, when for an 
instant her eyes rested on Dan who had taken a 
seat near the stage and who was directly in front 
of her. 

Dan’s surprise was only equaled by his pleasure 
when he saw whom the ladies had chosen to repre- 
sent their society. 

Of the result of the contest he felt no doubt from 
the outset, for he knew that Vailette was his su- 
perior in the matter of elocution, and were it other- 
wise he would feel no reluctance to seeing her take 
the prize. 

He had noticed her entrance with no less ad- 
miration than otherS; as his quickened pulses well 


152 The Poorhouse Lark. 

attested, and had followed the various phases with 
no less interest. 

But as for an instant he dwelt on her easy 
poise and graceful self-possession, by one of those 
unaccountable freaks which the mind sometimes 
takes, a different picture was suddenly presented to 
his mental vision. He went back to that scene in 
the Junior room of the High School building 
where he had wrestled so vigorously with the ^Tep- 
permint candy 

He thought of the ludicrous appearance pre- 
sented by the pale, trembling boy in his elementary 
struggle to personate Demosthenes — of the sing- 
ing in his ears and the blackness before his eyes — 
of his grasps for breath and his fruitless efforts to 
control his trembling knees. Then Vailette’s gig- 
gle rang in his ears with seemingly as much dis- 
tinctness as on the former occasion, and he could 
still remember how indignation against her re- 
called his scattered senses and roused him to suc- 
cess at last. 

An unconscious smile played upon his lips and 
lighted up his laughing eyes. 

Vailette noted that smile and it disconcerted 
her. 

Her thought was that something was wrong. 
Had she made a mistake, or was something wrong 
about her dress? 

She hesitated an instant — ^the audience thought 
for effect, but it was far otherwise. 

Then recollecting herself she sought to return 
to her theme, but, strange to say, the words had 
fled. 

She recalled her last sentence: hear the 


The Prize Contest. 


153 

children singing and the women but she could 
not tell what followed. 

The more she thought the more confused she 
became. 

The diversion of her thought had proved most 
disastrous. 

She could not recover her mental poise, and 
for the first time in her life she left the stage with 
failure written on her record. 


154 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 

DAN- AT ASHTON FAEM. 
was horn so high. 

Our eyrie buildeth in the ceda/s top. 

And dallies with the wind and scorns the sunf^ 

— Shakespeare. 

^'In winter s tedious nights sit by the fire 
With good old folks; and let them> tell the tales 
Of woeful ages, long ago betide/^ 

— Shakespeare. 

Dan’s first week at the preparatory school 
seemed to him as long as three weeks should have 
been, and he was only too glad to accept an invi- 
tation to mount his wheel and ride to Ashton 
farm on Friday afternoon. 

His introduction to the Ashtons in Burleigh 
paved his way to a cordial welcome, for both the 
old people were greatly pleased with what they 
termed his ^^good manners” on that occasion. 

But at each visit he rose in their esteem until 
Dan’s coming was looked forward to by them 
with nearly as much interest as by Vailette. 

Dan possessed in eminent degree the happy 


Dan at Ashton Farm. 


155 


faculty of forgetting himself in what interested 
other people^ whether they were old or young — • 
a trait that would be of great service to him when 
he entered on his lifework. 

He praised Mrs. Ashton’s doughnuts and asked 
Vailette if she did not think that her ginger- 
snaps tasted like Miss Elvira’s, the meantime 
helping himself to number two, in order, as it 
seemed, to be thoroughly sure of the resemblance 
— a compliment which pleased the housewife well. 

Then, too, he listened attentively while Mrs. 
Ashton went into minute details of her success in 
poultry raising and boasted the superiority of her 
well-tried methods over the new-fangled notions 
advocated by Mr. Ashton’s agricultural paper, 
which he considered such a wonder. 

He went with Mr. Ashton to milk the Jerseys, 
and showed an interest in marking the exact line to 
which the milk rose in the pail as Brindle, Short- 
horn, and the rest of the herd respectively sub- 
mitted to the ordeal of milking. 

Saturday was one long gala day. In autumn 
he was only too glad to spare Mr. Ashton the 
trouble of climbing the trees and shaking down 
apples, and he and Vailette vied with each other 
in seeing who could fill more baskets with the 
fruit, though each had tricks to play by way of 
making the other get behind or lose count. 

Then there were butternuts to gather, and 
the squirrels must have had hard work to secure 
their usual amount that season. 

Hext followed the gathering of wild grapes, or at 
least a search for them which took one whole af- 
ternoon, and later, when frosts had thoroughly 


156 The Poorhouse Lark. 

done their work, a party was formed to go to the 
woods after beechnuts. 

Dan^s familiarity with horses stood him in good 
stead here, also. 

It had raised Yailette much in her grand- 
father’s opinion that she could drive a horse, and 
he thonght it quite wonderful how she could man- 
age his ^^Major,” a sedate old farm horse who 
had never been known to take any freaks since 
his coltish days. But the memory of those ancient 
days was still fresh in Mr. Ashton’s mind, and 
he was ever on the lookout for a recurrence of 
what it seemed highly improbable would ever oc- 
cur again, and Yailette felt no fear. 

But M!r. Ashton’s special pride in the horse 
line was a large gray colt whom Yailette had 
given the name of Speed, and over whom she was 
fast gaining the ascendency. 

This colt Mr. Ashton wished broken for driving, 
but being timid in the matter of managing 
horses, he did not like to make any attempt 
toward familiarizing him with the harness. 

One morning Dan and Yailette were missing for 
some time, and when next seen, they were accom- 
panied by Speed in a harness. 

He was led by Yailette, who alternately petted 
him and fed him bits of candy, while Dan carried 
the reins aud ostensibly did the guiding. 

During the winter Dan’s visits were less fre- 
quent, but now and then Yailette and old Major 
put in an appearance just as school closed on 
Friday afternoon, and then there were more happy 
times. 

The long^ mnter evenings served well for telling 


Dan at Ashton Farm. 


157 


stories or for listening to some entertaining book, 
and Dan always must know just how Vailette 
was getting on v/ith her music, and if she had 
learned anything new he must hear it played or 
sung. 

Thus the year rolled on. 

Spring came with its lights and shadows. Blus- 
tering March merged into fitful April, which in 
turn gave way to sunny May — each bringing its 
varied duties and pleasures, then followed sum- 
mer, that eventful season when Yailette must de- 
cide that question which meant so much for more 
than herself. 

Neither Yailette or Dr. Snell wished to speak 
to anyone on this subject, but each did a deal of 
thinking. 

For a long time Yailette was undecided. Her 
gratitude to Dr. Snell for her rescue from the 
Poorhouse knew no bounds, and what he had since 
been to her filled her with a deep sense of obliga- 
tion. But over against this stood her mothers let- 
ter, and she could not get away from that dying 
injunction — ^^Le to them a daughter worthy of 
the name.^^ 

Sometimes she almost wished that Crazy Luce 
had never given her the letter, and then there 
followed a season of self-reproach for lack of in- 
terest in her mother. 

Some natures must needs have talked the matter 
over with somebody, but not so Yailette. Her 
only resource was in what Miss Elvira and Dr. 
Snell had taught her — to take the matter to her 
Heavenly Father and be willing to follow his 
guidance, and this she sought to do. 


158 The Poorhouse Lark. 

Had Dr. Snell not been one of the parties con- 
cerned she would have consulted him^ but now she 
felt that he would wish her to make her own deci- 
sion. 

Dr. Snell, too, was dwelling on the same theme 
though he sought to give no sign, and once when 
Miss Elvira broached the subject he replied with 
such unusual crankiness that she never dared ven- 
ture a second attempt in that direction. 

pBut Miss Elvira and Dan often talked that mat- 
ter over, as did also Mr. and Mrs. Ashton. 

Would she go or stay — how that question tor- 
tured the grandparents. Sometimes they almost 
felt sure of her, and again some reference to Bur- 
leigh or to Dr. Snell overthrew their hopes and 
sent them back to wrestle with their fears. 

Every day she was with them added to the close- 
ness with which their heartstrings twined around 
her and they felt more and more that they could 
not give her up. 

They would hardly consent that she should go 
back to Burleigh for the prize contest, and the 
time of her absence seemed very long. 

Before he in any measure released his hold on 
Vailette, Dr. Snell had obtained from the Ash- 
tons promises which he felt confident were made in 
good faith, that she should not lack for advan- 
tages which should be for her interest, and these 
promises had been faithfully kept. 

The day which marked the completion of a 
year from the time of their first meeting was the 
time appointed for Yailette’s decision, and as sum- 
mer advanced that day drew nearer and nearer. 


Vailette’s Decision. 


159 


CHAPTEE XXIX. 

VAILETTE^S DECISIOI^. 

''Brave conquerors! — for so you are 
That war against your own affections, 

And the huge army of the world's desires,^' 

It was evening. Slowly the snn had sunk be- 
hind the hills which shut Burleigh in on the west, 
but still his beams lingered, falling aslant window 
panes and burnishing them as with polished gold 
or giving a red luster most beautiful to behold. 

The hour for tea at Dr. Snell’s was six o’clock, 
but on this evening the meal was delayed. 

The table was set with the best china and sil- 
ver, and a few heirlooms in the way of cut glass 
which only appeared on special occasions were 
not considered too good for use now. 

Although the table had been set with faultless 
precision for two hours, every now and then Miss 
Elvira came in from the kitchen with as near 
an approach to a flurried air as she ever assumed, 
and after ostensibly straightening the table-cloth 
which was already laid as by line and plummet, 
she rearranged the teacups, sugar bowls and cream 
cup, and then went deliberately out. The table 
was set for four and the plates were arranged just 


i6o The Poorhouse Lark. 

as they used to be when Vailette was with them — 
her plate beside that of Dr. Snell, and Dan’s 
nearer that of Miss Elvira. 

For some tim_e the exact amount of flour re- 
quired for biscuits for four, had stood in a basin on 
the pantry broad-shelf, and the other ingredients 
required were ranged around, waiting the turn 
of the hands of the kitchen clock which should in- 
dicate that it was time to mix and get them ready 
foi baking. 

At last this time came, and Miss Elvira’s still 
nimble fingers flew with all dispatch and soon the 
biscuit cutter had done its work and the prospective 
biscuits stood as in martial order on the tins await- 
ing their entrance to the fiery oven which of course 
was at just the right heat. 

Miss Elvira manifested no emotion, but at heart 
she was very desirous that everything should be at 
its best on this which she felt sure must be the 
evening of Vailette’s return, for it had not seemed 
to dawn on her mind that Vailette could choose 
to do otherwise than return to such a home as 
this. 

She had not known of Mrs. McCrae’s letter, and 
she felt sure that Vailette would never want to 
settle down on a farm with those two old people for 
whom she, personally, had not conceived great ad- 
miration during their visit to Burleigh. 

Dan occupied a seat by the sitting-room win- 
dow. He was waiting for the arrival of train 
time and for the coming of his father and — would 
Vailette be with him? 

Sometimes he felt sure that she would — ^his 
heart crying out, ^^How can I have it otherwise 


Vailette’s Decision. i6i 

The meantime he suffered an agony of donbt 
as he remembered how she had spoken to him of 
her mother's wish, and of the sadness of leaving 
those two old people alone in their declining 
years. 

He had worked himself np to such a pitch that 
he conld not be quiet. He rose and began to pace 
the room, halting now and then, always beside 
something that reminded him of Yailette; now it 
was a bracket which held some of her trinkets, 
and then u book on the center table in which 
he knew her name to be inscribed. 

Then he turned to the conservatory where were 
vines which she had insisted on training in caper- 
ing ways to suit her own fancy, and some of her 
favorite plants were in blossom. 

It was well for him that the sound of the car 
whistle told of the incoming train and turned his 
thought a little out of its channel. He seized his 
hat and hastened to the spot, where he arrived just 
as the train stopped. 

Oh how eagerly he watched the outcoming of the 
passengers. 

There was a minister and a lawyer from Bur- 
leigh, also several ladies whom he knew, but for 
once polite Dr. Dan omitted to even touch his hat 
to these. 

His eager gaze went beyond them to whom might 
come. 

Whether intentionally or not. Dr. Snell was the 
last to leave the train, and when he did so he 
looked so pale and seemed so feeble that Dan's 
attention was somewhat diverted from the fact that 
he came alone. 


1 62 The Poorhouse Lark, 

Poor Dr. Snell ! It had been a hard time for 
him. 

In the morning when he started for Ashton 
Farm, he was to set out before daylight, and he 
had slept little on the previous night. 

He took his seat in the car mechanically and al- 
most omitted to recognize fellow passengers whom 
he well knew, a very unusual thing with him. 

He was fond of travel, his profession gave him 
little opportunity for trips like this, and ordinarily 
it would have been a great treat, but now his mind 
was so burdened that he gave little heed to any- 
thing except the rate of speed with which he trav- 
eled. 

The dawn of day and the rising of the sun were 
always of interest to him when it so happened 
that he might witness them, but now the dawning 
light revealed the beauties of the unfamiliar sec- 
tion of country through which he was passing for 
other eyes than his, and although he saw the 
sparkle of the dewdrops as they glistened in the 
morning sun, his soul failed to respond as usual 
to the voice which always spoke to him of beauty 
untold and of the Divine goodness which thus 
ministered to human happiness. 

He was doing his best to gain that self-mastery 
which would enable him to pass the ordeal which 
he feared was before him in a worthy way, for from 
a little note which Vailette had sent him on the 
previous day, he feared that she would feel bound 
by her mother’s wish, to remain with her grand- 
parents, and it was one of the hardest trials of his 
life, to give her up. 

Braton was reached before he had thought of 


Vailettes Decision. 163 

being at his journey’s end, and as the train stopped 
there was Vailette with a carriage, waiting to take 
him to Ashton Farm. 

Old Major took his own gait, which was not 
over-fast that morning, and before the ride was 
finished Yailetie had unburdened her heart to Dr. 
Snell, telling him that grateful as she was to him, 
she felt bound by her mother’s expressed wish 
to remain where she was, so long as her grand- 
parents needed her. 

Dr. Snell had gained his mastery and said not 
one word to weaken or make Yailette regret her 
purpose, and when he witnessed the joy of Mr. and 
Mrs. Ashton when they knew the decision, he felt 
in a measure repaid for any sacrifice which he had 
made in the case. 

Again and again Mr. Ashton thanked him for 
his kindness to Yailette, and gave a hint which 
he thought nothing of at the time, but which, years 
afterward, he recalled, to the effect that ^^Mebby 
thanks v/ouldn’t be all there was to it, some day.” 

AVhen Dr. Snell and Dan met at the depot, only 
one word passed between them, and that came from 
the lips of Dan — ^‘Stayed?” 

His father bowed as they clasped hands, and the 
tale was told. 

When they reached home. Dr. Snell calmly told 
Miss Elvira of Yailette’s decision, together with 
the reasons which had prompted it, and they sat 
down to the evening meal, to which Dr. Snell 
did justice. 

But Dan could not eat. Miss Elvira’s biscuits 
were of feathery lightness, but they did not meet 


164 The Poorhbuse Lark. 

his need; and was it these or welling tears that 
choked him, so that he rose from the table, and, 
taking his hat, went out where he could get fresh 
air, for of a sudden the air of the room seemed 
close and stifling and he could scarcely breathe. 


Fidelity at the Center. 


J65 


CHAPTEE XXX. 

FIDELITY AT THE CENTER. 

'‘In life's small things he resolute and great 
To Tceep thy muscles trained: hnowest thou when 
Fate 

Thy measure taJces, or when she'll say to thee 
'I find thee worthy; do this deed for me?' " 

Such a glad day as it was for the Ashtons when 
it was known to them that Vailette was to be 
theirs ^^for good and all/^ as Mrs. Ashton ex- 
pressed it. 

They had dreaded Dr. Snell’s coming lest 
through some influence he should secure their 
treasure. But when they knew through Yailette 
that he had helped her to decide to stay with them, 
in their state of joyful excitement they were al- 
most ready to fall down and worship him, and they 
ever held him in highest esteem. In fact, they 
considered him a wonderful man, and insisted 
that he should often come to Ashton Farm. 

Now that they were not afraid of her being 
induced to remain, they were willing that Vailette 
should return to Burleigh for a visit. 

It was not lightly that Vailette had reached her 


i66 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


decision. From the day that she read her mother’s 
letter she entered on a new life experience. 

Hers was naturally a deep nature, but hitherto 
she had seldom had occasion to go down to its 
depths. She had lived mostly on the sunny sur- 
face of life, with Miss Elvira to insist on her doing 
what she must, and Dr. Snell to gently lead into 
the deeper fields where grew those tenderer though 
stronger and more fruitful plants nourished by 
love. Divine and human. 

She had been powerfully influenced by her 
mother’s last charge: ^‘^Be a true woman, and 
make the most of yourself.” 

What was it to be a true woman, and how could 
she make the most of herself? 

The more she pondered these things, the more 
they roused her to high aspirations. She would 
be somebody and do something, and like many 
another she dreamed and dreamed waking dreams 
of a future glowing with distinctive honors and 
high renown. 

Her ambition was to become a celebrated musi- 
cian, and she really applied herself to this end. 
She would not only gain distinction in this way, 
but she would earn money with which to in some 
measure repay Dr. Snell his loss through the bank 
robbery. 

But the time when she would be prepared for 
this was in the future, and she sighed for some 
present means of earning money, and during her 
second year at Ashton Farm her opportunity came 
in the form of an application to finish out a tenn 
of school for a teacher who was sick, and as her 
term would necessarily be short, and the school was 


Fidelity at the Center. 167 

not far away, her grandparents consented to this 
arrangement of which we will learn more in an- 
other chapter. 

‘'Be a true woman.^^ At first this part of the 
letter had less weight with Vailette than what fol- 
lowed, but in time it became a ruling motive in her 
life, for she saw that it was the true basis on which 
to rest the superstructure of the most of one’s 
self, which she wished to rear. 

Her failure at Burleigh was far from being a 
real disadvantage to her. It was one of those life 
experiences which though so humiliating at the 
time, prove a real stepping-stone toward a higher 
life. 

The Yailette which came forth from that ordeal, 
was one with less assurance, though not with less 
calm dignity than the one who entered the prize 
contest without a thought of anything but a glori- 
ous success. 

But the problem which she sought to solve has 
puzzled older heads than hers, and it is not strange 
that she had to give time to its solving. 

One day in her reading she came across some- 
thing which was very helpful to her in an article 
written by Mrs. Merrill Gates. 

From this article she caught these thoughts: 
^‘God measures life by the fidelity found at the cen- 
ter of one’s being. The minuteness, the fidelity, 
the loyalty of the soul’s actual obedience, is the 
standard of God’g measure for all his universe of 
moral beings. 

‘Tt follows that the only w'ay to increase the 
breadth and vigor of our outward scope, is to be- 
come more faithful at the center of our lives. 


i68 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


increase the heart’s devotion to God, to de- 
mand greater loyalty of ourselves in small things, 
to institute a more searching inquiry into the 
spirit of our conduct, to widen our thought of 
God within, to oblige ourselves to more kindly feel- 
ing toward others, to cleanse the heart from selfish 
ambition and deceit in unseen motives — ^this is to 
make the angle wider at the center, and thus to in- 
crease the possibility, or rather to create necessity 
for a wider arc of outward performance of greater 
effectiveness for good in the world.’^ 

This reading sent a thrill through Vailette’s 
soul. 

She saw it now. To be a true woman did not 
require that she become renowned or that she seek 
greatness as an end, but rather that she be true at 
the center of being. 

This thought fastened upon her with a living 
grasp and rayed itself forth with beauty and 
power in her life. 


John Henry. 


169 


CHAPTER XXXI 

JOHN HENRY. 

**Man is something like a hook, 

Crilt embossed to gaudy look: 

Bound in calf or hound in cloth. 

Shod, perhaps in some of both — 

Named, or titled to appear 
Very grand as well as dear/' 

Within a few rods of the school house where 
Vailette taught, was a large farmhouse which, 
with its accompanying farm, had recently come 
into possession of widow Link and her son John 
Henry. 

Possibly this last expression were better put — 
the possession of John Henry and widow Link, for, 
not because he specially wished it, but because his 
mother had brought him up in that way, John 
Henry took precedence in all things, and Mrs. 
Link, from choice was secondary. 

This being the only house near the school house, 
it had been considered desirable for Vailette to 
board there, consequently she was duly installed in 
teacher’s quarters under the hospitable roof of 
John Henry and widow Link. 


170 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


It did not take long for one of Vailette’s keen 
discernment to take in the fact that she had fallen 
in with peculiar specimens of the genus ^liomo’^ 
and that the society which her boarding place 
furnished was not quite what she would have 
chosen^ but Yailette was just the one to adapt her- 
self to circumstances. 

Evidently the family had come from some ex- 
treme backwoods section, and were little accus- 
tomed to even so much of society as was afforded 
by the farming community in which they now 
found themselves located. 

That they were not limited through lack of 
means, the boarder had early occasion to know, as 
Mrs. Link informed her on the first evening of her 
stay that every inch of their farm was paid for, 
and they had money in the bank. 

A slight description of these two unique speci- 
mens may not be amiss. 

Mrs. Link stood on the border line Twixt mid- 
dle life and old age, but was, in her own phraseol- 
ogy — ^‘^still hale and hearty, and could do as big a 
day’s work as ever she could before John Henry 
was bom” — John Henry being to her the stand- 
point from which she reckoned whatever events 
could be substantiated upon such precious refer- 
ence. 

She was short and stout, with high cheek bones, 
glistening, beady eyes, and a low forehead from 
which the gray hair was combed straight back and 
fastened in a knot at the back of the head with a 
high-backed comb of ancient pattern. 

Her dress though neat was invariably of calico, 
the brightness in color of which was often seem- 


John Henry. 171 

ingly out of accord with her gray hair, but this 
incongruity was accounted for by the oft repeated 
remark that J ohn Henry was awful fond of bright 
colors."^^ 

John Henry was to her as the apple of her eye. 
In him she lived and moved. 

No sacrifice on her part was to be considered if 
only John Henry’s interests were furthered or his 
comfort or his happiness advanced. 

If she thought him tired, the fact that she was 
old and he young was of no account, and fatigue 
on her part was no reason why she should not 
lighten his labors by giving the calves and the 
pigs their evening meal, and no matter how cold 
the weather it was the mother who built the morn- 
ing fire and saw that John Henry had a warm 
room to dress in. 

John Henry was just what might have been ex- 
pected as the outgrowth of such environments. 

Brought up in the backwoods he knew nothing 
of society beyond his sparsely settled neighbor- 
hood, and having from his cradle been taught to 
center life in himself, he knew little of its higher 
forms in any direction. 

He was kind hearted and could easily have been 
trained to self-sacrifice, but why should he now 
refuse the easiest chair when it had always been his 
by supposed right, and to make himself first on any 
occasion had never occurred to him as other than 
the respect due to John Henry ? 

How Vailette was impressed by this family can 
best be gathered from an extract from a letter writ- 
ten to a school friend a short time after the begin- 
ning of her acejuaiutance with it. 


172 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


^^Yon will be surprised to learn that your hum- 
ble servant has turned her attention to the training 
of the youthful mind ; and this is wherefore : The 
teacher in a rural district some miles from my 
home, chose a most inopportune time in which 
to devote her attention to the disease termed 
measles, and thinking it improbable that she would 
be able to resume her literary pursuit at present 
she signified the same to the proper authorities, to- 
gether with the request that your friend and com- 
panion, Yailette, be her successor for the term 
which was only half through, and owing to the 
facts that this arrangement suited the taste of the 
said Vailette, who as you know wanted mental oc- 
cupation, and also as you may not know, whose 
pocketbook wanted replenishing, this arrangement 
was duly entered upon. 

^^As before intimated, the scene of this plot is a 
rural district — quite rural enough for improvement 
in ways and manners ; but we leave this generality 
for specialties, first, as regards the school, which 
consists of twenty pupils ranging in age from five 
to fifteen years, and in attainments from zero to 
plus, or possibly it might be more appropriate to 
reverse those terms as in most cases the younger are 
the brighter ones. 

^^But I leave the school for your inspection in its 
transformed state, for I purpose that you shall visit 
it, and hasten to my boarding place, for ^Thereby 
hangs a tale,^ as saith your friend Shakespeare. 

^^The teachers previously employed in this dis- 
trict had boarded around — that is, stayed a few 
nights with each family in the district, but as the 
present incumbent was not fond of a nomadic life. 


173 


John Henry. 

and flatly refused to move about thusly, with her 
goods and gods, other arrangements had to be 
made, and she has sometimes wondered whether 
the dignitaries termed trustees laughed in their 
sleeves as they let her have her own way, and 
meekly made for her those arrangements. 

‘^Be that as it may, board for the new teacher was 
secured in the home of John Henry and Widow 
Link — these names are mentioned in this order be- 
cause this seems the order of importance with re- 
gard to these two individuals, John Henry being 
primary and Mrs. Link secondary, as you will 
observe when you visit me. 

^^Mrs. Link is a prematurely old, hard working 
little woman who knows little of life beyond her 
own doorsill and whose heart is bound up and 
whose individuality (if she ever had any) is lost 
in her only child, John Henry. 

^^Of him she talks morning, noon and night, for 
him she would work her fingers to the bone, and 
to him she sacrifices her last comfort, without any 
apparent idea that she long since spoiled him with 
babying, and that his manhood, if such a condition 
exists, is in a very undeveloped state on this ac- 
count. 

^‘^But you know the adage with regard to igno- 
rance being bliss, and this is most decidedly a case 
in point. The fond mother seems to have no idea 
that her boy, as she still calls him though he must 
long since have attained his majority, is not just 
as lovely and quite as smart as any young man in 
existence. 

'^At table he helps himself to the best potato in 
the dish, and then as a special act of courtesy. 


174 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


passes the dish to the schoolma’am, while the 
mother looks on with pride and approval as to 
say: ^See what a boy is my John Henr}^' — and 
seems perfectly content to take up with what she 
can get if only John Henry is provided for and 
the schoolma^am is waited on in a manner pleas- 
ing nnto him. 

^^And yet, there are good things abont the yonng 
man. 

^^He is very indnstrions, and the neighbors be- 
stow the information gratuitously that ^e’s a first 
rate farmer and is making lots of money.’ He seems 
fond of his mother and probably is as considerate 
for her as his bringing up will warrant, as I notice 
that even now, at this time of life, no matter how 
tired she may be, she gives up the best chair to 
him, and she always brings in the wood and the 
kindlings. 

^^My hand shakes so for laughing that I can 
hardly hold my pen steady enough to write con- 
cerning John Henry’s attempts to play the agree- 
able to the new schoolma’am, to whom he evi- 
dently feels in special duty bound because she is a 
member of his household. 

^^At first I only saw the comical side of it, but I 
had not been in the family long before I began to 
really feel sorry for the gawky and to think that 
possibly I might help him, for I noticed that if he 
drew from any remark of mine a suggestion that 
fell within his range, he at once acted upon it, and 
I wondered whether it were not more his misfor- 
tune than his fault that he is as he is. 

^^It seems to me that it would do him a deal of 


175 


John Henry. 

good to go away from home, where he would be 
obliged to compare himself with others, and act 
his part as a man among men. 

notice that he is not lacking in sensibility, and 
this comparison would tend to diminish his self-es- 
teem which has always been cultivated, and brush- 
ing against other men would, I believe, remove 
some of his rust, and the projecting corners of his 
character. Who can predict the J ohn Henry of the 
future ? 

^^One evening I was speaking of you and your 
brother Sandy, dwelling specially on the thought of 
how much easier the latter made life for your 
mother and yourself, and possibly it may not have 
been wholly without design that I mentioned the 
fact that Sandy always built the kitchen fire in the 
morning. , 

^^Be that as it may, next morning I was awakened 
by an unusual rattling of the kitchen stove, which 
Mrs. Link always handles with great care lest she 
disturb J ohn Henry’s morning nap, and that morn- 
ing after the last named person had left the table I 
was treated to an unusually profuse dessert of J ohn 
Henry, on account of the mother’s gratitude be- 
cause he had built for her the morning fire. 

^‘Noticing the absence of reading matter in the 
house, and judging that nothing which I had 
brought for my own reading would be just the 
thing to interest these people, the next Monday 
when I came from home — John Henry carries me 
home every Friday night, and comes for me Mon- 
day mornings bright and early — I brought some of 
grandfather’s agricultural papers for the son, and 


176 The Poorhouse Lark.' 

a story book which I thought she would enjoy, for 
the mother. 

^^You should have witnessed their pleasure, and 
since then there is nothing within their power 
which they will not do for me. 

^^After he had read the papers, I managed in- 
directly to lead John Henryk’s mind up to the 
thought that it would be a famous plan for him 
to take that paper for himself. 

^^He was delighted with the idea, and to my sur- 
prise, he, in an embarrassed way, asked if I would 
mind ordering it for him at once. 

^^Then there came another pleasant little surprise 
in the suggestion that ^after milking, we^ — that 
is, John Henry and the schoolma^am — ride to the 
town a mile and a half away, and mail the im- 
portant letter. 

went for two reasons. I did not see how I 
could very well get out of it, and I had errands of 
my own to do which would take some time and 
knew that I could presume upon the patience of 
my escort to any desired extent. 

^^My regard for his kindness to his mother was 
greatly heightened during this ride, when he told 
me that he let her have all the egg and butter 
money to buy ^gimcracks^ with, while he pro- 
vided for the house, and what was more, he stated 
decidedly that this state of things should con- 
tinue until he got married, when his wife shoidd 
come in for her share. 

^^How my heart palpitated. If only I could 
make an impression — ^but as I am going to bring 
you here I do not expect to stand any chance, for 


John Henry. 177 

he told me in confidence, that he had always liked 
girls with bine eyes and light hair, best. 

^^Then my hopes fell much below zero, from 
which point they have never rallied, bnt I hope 
that before yonr coming I shall so recover my 
spirits as not to stand between yon and any good.^^ 


178 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


CHAPTER XXXIL 

JOHISr HENEY^S PROPOSITIOET. 

^'And man by man, each giving to all the rest. 
Makes the firm bulwa/rk of the Christian's power/' 

^^Say, ma, don^t you think it would be a good 
plan to let the schoolma’am invite her friend 
that she was telling us about the other night to 
come here and make her a visit? It seemed to 
me when she was talking that she would like that 
amazingly, but I guess maybe she donT want to 
ask it lest it make you trouble, for I notice that 
she^s mighty careful about troubling other folks/^ 

It was John Henry who spoke as he came into 
the kitchen where his mother was preparing 
breakfast, with some empty milk pails in his 
hands. 

^‘^Why, John Henry, what an idee!^’ said the 
proud and happy mother, who would have liked 
nothing better than this plan, but who would not 
have thought of such a thing as originating it. 

^^But don^t ye think ye can?^^ continued the 
first speaker with, anxiety in his tone. H^ll get 
Jane Doane to help you with the work, and then 
there^s them early chickens as will make first rate 
dinners with some of your dumplings, and ITl 


179 


John Henry’s Proposition. 

kill a lamb if ye like, and I’ll venture that be- 
tween ye yon and Jane can get np something to 
eat.” 

^^Oh! I wasn’t botherin’ about the eating part 
of it — you men are always thinking of the eating” 
— she said facetiously, ^^but what bothered me was 
as to whether the young lady would want to come. 
From what the schoolma’am said I concluded 
that the girl’s folks were quite up in the world, 
and ye know we are plain old-fashioned folks.” 

^^Yes, I know there’s a difference,” said John 
Henry with more of dissatisfaction and sadness 
in his tone than was his wont, ^^but I spoke to the 
schoolma’am about it and she said she knew her 
friend would be delighted to come, so before she 
goes home Friday night, hadn’t you better speak 
to her about it and decide upon the time?” 

This was a remarkable speech for John Henry. 
The spring chickens referred to were some on 
which he had bestowed great care for many weeks 
until they had become to him of great account, and 
selfish as he had always been, it was a new de- 
parture for him to thus willingly sacrifice his own 
interest for the pleasure of others. 

Then, too, the anticipated event was likely to 
occur in the midst of the haying season, a time 
when the farmer has usually little time to devote 
to anything but severest labor, and this was an in- 
novation at which Mrs. Link would have looked 
aghast, had she herself been less interested. 

But as it was the two were agreed, and Yailette 
who had not yet decided to venture upon asking 
for so great a favor, was greatly delighted when 
Mrs. Link informed her that it was the united 


i8o The Poorhouse Lark. 

wish of herself and her that the young lady 

be invited to spend a few days at the farm. 

The anticipated guest was Kitty Clone^ a city 
girl from a wealthy family. 

Kitty was a pretty little blonde, bright and bub- 
bling over with fun and merriment. 

The morning of the eventful day which was to 
mark the arrival of Miss Kitty Clone, found the 
Link family early astir, John Henry looking wise 
and thoughtful, while Mrs. Link was in such a 
state of nervous excitement that as she prepared 
breakfast she put a plate of butter designed for 
the table on the warming closet and boiled the 
eggs ten minutes instead of three. 

After breakfast, John Henry, who had some 
time to be disposed of before the time for meet- 
ing the guest at the train should arrive, betook 
himself to the hayfield and began work as usual. 

But a neighbor, who in passing noted the fact, 
wondered when he saw the industrious John 
Henry whiling away an early morning hour in 
the shade of a branching oak which stood in the 
field, and this was the more remarkable because 
he had plenty of hay cut which needed getting 
in before the rain, which rising thunder-heads al- 
ready threatened. 

Fact was, John Henry was entering upon a new 
experience. 

Hitherto he had stood as a good illustration of 
the truth that so long as one is satisfied with him- 
self, there is little hope for change for the better. 
It is when the foundations of self-satisfaction be- 
come unsettled that the soul begins to reach out 
for better things. 


John Henry’s Proposition. i8i 

His entire education had been so much in the 
line of his OT\ni superiority that he had scarcely 
thought to question it. 

But somehow, as he sat in the shadow of the 
oak that July morning a different view of things 
presented itself to his mind. 

Since he had known Vailette, all unconsciously 
to her, her life had proved to him as a sort of mir- 
ror in which by way of contrast he had seen his 
own life reflected and the picture was at variance 
vdth his preconceived opinions. 

He began to think with less satisfaction of him- 
self, and into his heart there crept a wish — vague 
and undefined at first — for something better than 
he had known. 

Once having turned his thoughts in this direc- 
tion, his was a nature that would follow on, and 
good to himself was the result. J ohn Henry would 
never be to him quite the same again, since entire 
self-satisfaction had received its death blow. 

The plan of arrangement for the coming of the 
expected guest was this : Kitty’s brother was to 
accompany her to the station where she left the 
train, and here she was to be met by Vailette and 
John Henry and taken to the farmhouse. 

But for once the resolute Vailette succumbed to 
a weakness which made woeful shipwreck of her 
plan. 

In general she was fearless, but from child- 
hood she had been the victim of a nervous terror 
of thunder, which, in case of severe storms, often 
prostrated her completely. 

Since early morning on the day in question, she 
had watched the clouds looming up in the west. 


i 82 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


John Henry was aware of Yailette’s neryons- 
ness in this direction, and he was far from wishing 
a display of cloud artillery on this occasion, lest 
it interfere with his plans in a way not at all to 
his mind. 

Ever since the coming of the stranger had be- 
come a settled expectation, he had thought to do 
his part manfully by taking the schoolma’am to 
the station to meet her friend. 

Consequently, the old-fashioned, Ihigh-backed: 
buggy received such a washing as it had not suf- 
fered in many a day, and the harness was put in 
such a condition that Mrs. Link declared that it 
reminded her of the time when it was new, which 
must have required quite a stretch of imagination, 
that date being so many years previous. 

The embarrassment incident to his first trips 
with the schoolma’am had worn off, and John 
Henry felt no hesitancy in view of driving bravely 
and fearlessly up to the depot for the stranger 
lady, so long as the schoolma^am was to be with 
him, but what should he do if he had to go alone ? 

This matter worried Yailette badly enough, but 
her disquiet of mind was as nothing compared 
wuth that of John Henry. 

The time for starting approached, and so did 
the thunder storm. The clouds rolled up darker 
and darker, and the muttering peals became more 
and more distinct. 

Yailette did her best to brace up and face the 
dilemma, but it was of no use — she could not go to 
the depot in the face of that storm, and she ap- 
pealed to John Henry to go without her. 

The meantime, good Mrs. Link provided a large^ 


John Henry's Proposition. 183 

though faded, umbrella aud a camlet cloak of im- 
mense proportions, which for twenty years had 
been noted for its waterproof qualities, as she 
stated with pride, and thus equipped John Henry 
set forth. 

His horse corresponded well in date with his 
other equipments, but apparently age had neither 
dimmed his eye nor abated his native friskiness 
of disposition. He still saw whatever was worth 
noticing on the route, to say nothing of what was 
not, and if these objects of notice happened to im- 
press him as in any way peculiar or novel he 
showed his appreciation of the same by a coquet- 
tish little shy, which had the good effect to break 
in upon the chain of John Henryks thought, in 
which were many links of anxious and wholly un- 
necessary foreboding, by bringing his mind sud- 
denly back to the matter immediately in hand, 
thus establishing the principle that present duty 
requires present attention. 

Then, too, whether from being associated with 
Vailette so much of late, or on his own account, 
Old Diplomacy, or for short. Old Dip, had a dis- 
like for thunder after the manner of Vailette’s, 
except that he had reached the advanced stage of 
self-control where he only gave way to his fears 
when the warring elements gave some great and 
special sign of discord. 

As one instance of this kind had occurred on 
his way to the station. Old Dip was, in John 
Henry’s phraseology, ^Vaked up” in the outward 
trip, and his frame of mind was not rendered 
more calm and peaceful by the incoming engine, 


184 The Poorhouse Lark. 

which appeared in sight just as the high-backed 
buggy came up in a would-be stately manner to 
the door of the ladies^ waiting room. 

Having received through Vailette a description 
both of Old Dip and ^^John Henryks chariot/^ 
Kitty was not slow to recognize her escort, and 
knowing Vailette’s terror of thunder, she at once 
took in the situation and left John Henry no time 
for embarrassment, but in view of the approach- 
ing storm hurriedly introduced herself and took 
her seat in the buggy, much to the relief of the 
driver, who was having all he could do to keep his 
horse sufficiently quiet to let the chariot stand on 
its four wheels. 

As Kitty left home in charge of her brother, 
Sandy, after the manner of careful mothers, Mrs. 
Clone gave the latter many charges relative to 
the care of the thoughtless Kitty. 

Prominent among these charges was: ^^Be sure 
to take these, pointing to an umbrella and a 
waterproof, which she hastily deposited in the hall 
while she went back for a package. 

The careful Sandy had a large head for spe- 
cialties, as his mother well knew, but somehow, 
on this occasion, between the two in the hurry of 
getting off, the umbrella and waterproof were left 
behind. 

But although it was early discovered and de- 
plored by the mother, this fact did not disturb the 
travelers until the careful brother saw the clouds 
rolling up as he looked through the ear window, 
when he remembered his mother’s charge and 
sighed over his delinquency. He was therefore re- 


John Henry's Proposition. 185 

joiced to find that, although he had been careless, 
the good Mrs. Link had been more thonghtfnl. 

He wrapped the camlet cloak carefully around 
the dainty little Kitty, making her look like a 
veritable Dutch doll; and if his eyes twinkled a 
little as he placed her on the seat beside John 
Henry and placed the umbrella where she could 
get it without trouble, who could blame him ? 

But little cared Kitty. She was having a good 
time, and would soon be with Vailette, therefore 
she was content. 

She chattered like a magpie, to the relief of 
John Henry, who afterward told his mother that 
he did not expect to be able to say a word all the 
way, but found himself talking before he knew it. 

Soon the rain, which had for some time been 
seen in the distance, began falling in large drops. 

John Henry raised the large, brown umbrella, 
which, with the cloak, did good service. Then he 
chirruped to Old Dip to urge him to a faster 
pace. But the thunder proved a more effective 
quickener than his chirrup, and a heavy peal com- 
ing at an opportune time, they went flying over 
the road at a pace which left John Gilpin far be- 
hind in the annals of fame. 

In spite of Mrs. Link’s presence, Vailette, who 
was on the watch, gave way to uncontrollable 
laughter as she saw the party approach. 

The rain was pouring in torrents. Old Dip was 
on little short of a run. The wind, v/hich was in 
their faces, filled out Kitty’s cloak until it resem- 
bled an inflated balloon, and just before they were 
through using it the wind turned the brown um- 
brella wrong side out and sent it flying into an 


1 86 The Poorhouse Lark. 

adjoining field, while Kitt/s musical laugh rang 
out above the noise of the storm in merry peals, 
as though the whole affair were only a rich joke. 

This much for the coming, but the history of 
that visit requires a chapter by itself. 


Kitty’s Visit. 


187 


CHAPTER XXXIIL 

KITTY^S VISIT. 

^^Haste thee. Nymph, and hrmg with thee 
Jest and joyful jollity/" 

The school ma’am had received large recogni- 
tion at the Link farmhouse, but the advent of a 
city girl was a still more marked experience. 

Vailette had thought to have Kitty room with 
her, and so make less trouble for Mrs. Link, but 
she soon found that this was not in accordance 
with the ideas of propriety maintained by the 
household, therefore she waived her preference 
gracefully and felt no pangs of jealousy when she 
learned that Kitty was to occupy the ^^spare room.” 

Kitty h-ad come from a home of luxury, but 
the quaint furnishings of the farmhouse pleased 
her, and she felt no disposition to be critical or to 
feel out of place. But her love of fun would not 
long brook restraint, and at night as she went to 
her room it began to assert itself. 

On a rack made for the purpose, in one corner 
of the room, hung John Henry’s best suit, includ- 
ing derby hat and boots, together with a long linen 
duster, with which he protected his best broad- 


i88 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


cloth from defilement on the rare occasions when 
he appeared in it at a Fourth of July celebration, 
a circns, or a town fair. 

To Kilty here was an opportunity, and she was 
not long in improving it. 

Yailette’s room connected hers with the front 
hall, and after Vailette had bidden her good night 
and gone to her own room, Kitty’s face took on a 
look which meant mischief, most decidedly. 

Seizing a chair she repaired to the corner which 
was used as a wardrobe. Placing the chair firmly 
against the wall, she gravely mounted it, and as 
gravely descended to the floor with John Henry’s 
linen duster and his derby hat. Her next act was 
to put on the duster, which gave her a most lu- 
dicrous appearance, it being large enough for two 
of her size, and the sleeves hung dangling below 
her hands in ridiculous fashion. 

Kext she appropriated the derby, which came 
down over her eyes so that she could hardly see 
herself in the little mirror which hung in the op- 
posite corner. 

But this was not enough. Tinder the rack on 
which the duster had hung, stood John Henry’s 
Sunday boots, as spick and span as his mother 
could make them with her best use of blacking. 

These she also appropriated, and in a trice 
slipped her little feet into them, shoes and all. 

Then she rapped at Vailette’s door, and gravely 
bowing herself in, mimicked John Henry so ex- 
actly that Vailette nearly exploded with laughter, 
while she appeared as grave as a judge. 

Meanwhile Mrs. Link and her son were discuss- 
ing the events of the day below stairs, when the 


Kitty’s Visit. 189 

former suddenly recalled to mind the fact that she 
had failed to supply the pitcher in the spare bed- 
room with water, and taking in her hand a large 
tin dipper, she filled it at the pump and started 
up the stairs, having first placed a lamp so that 
the light would fall for her accommodation. 

It was well for Yailette and Kitty that the dip- 
per was so filled with water as to make Mrs. Link’s 
progress slow, for there was consternation above 
stairs when her approaching footsteps were heard. 
Who knew what might be her errand, and into 
what room might her duty call her? 

Conscience stricken, Kitty started for the spare 
room, but the boots were not conducive to rapid 
locomotion, and she heard Mrs. Link’s rap at the 
door before she had reached her own room. 

The coat came off much quicker than it went on, 
and if John Henry had wanted his Sunday hat 
just then the most probable place for finding it 
would have been under the bed. 

Kext she attacked the boots, but here was a state 
of things. The little kid shoes went into the boots 
all right, but high heels and buttons made getting 
out of them a very different matter. 

Through the crack of the door she could see 
that Yailette was equal to her part of the emer- 
gency by kindly relieving Mrs. Link of her bur- 
den, and promising to return the dipper next 
morning, and she felt an unspeakable relief when 
she again heard the footsteps on the stairs. 

Then she renewed her efforts to get out of the 
boots, and worked until her face was flushed and 
she was ready to cry, but to no purpose. The boots 
would not budge an inch. 


1 90 The Poorhouse Lark. 

Then the two laughed until they fairly gasped 
for breath. 

But something must be done, and Vailette 
tugged with all her might at the firmly set boots, 
■until Kitty really became frightened lest it be- 
come necessary to call Mrs. Link, and between fits 
of la-ughter, Vailette suggested the propriety of 
calling the owner of the boots. But finally, to the 
relief of both, the boots were drawn off and re- 
turned to their corner. 

The next morning Kitty slept late, and Vail- 
ette, who, thanks to Miss Elvira’s training, was a 
model of promptness at breakfast, knowing from 
familiar sounds from the kitchen that the meal 
was nearly ready, wakened Kitty. But the latter 
was not fond of early rising, and dozed away until 
it became so late that even she rose with a start 
and began her hurried preparations. 

Owing to the shortness of time Vailette sug- 
gested that as they were already late, and it might 
be inconvenient for both mother and son to wait 
longer, and also as this was a place where it would 
not be noticed, there would be no impropriety in 
Kitty’s going to the breakfast table with her frizzes 
in curl papers. 

Vailette was right, for Mrs. Link commended 
Kitty highly for her good judgment; remarking 
that she was glad to see that she combed her, hair 
in a sensible way, and without thought of per- 
sonality with regard to Vailette, to whom it di- 
rectly applied, the speaker continued to say that 
^^she’d seen some girls who wore such little frisky 
curls down on their foreheads that there was dan- 
ger of their injuring their eyes.^^ 


I9I 


Kitty's Visit. 

Vailette dared not look at Kitty lest that look 
prove too much for both^ but she cast a sidelong 
glance at John Henry, expecting to see approba- 
tion Avritten on every feature of his honest face, 
but, to her surprise, she noted an nnnsnal look of 
annoyance. 

Fact Avas, Yailette’s life in this family had been 
of benefit to its members. Hot through mighty 
effort ostentatiously displayed, but through the 
kind, thoughtful living of her every-day life, she 
was jostling them out of the rut in which they had 
hitherto moved, and to which they could never 
again return with the same sense of satisfaction. 

Having no daughter of her oAvn, it was a grati- 
fying experience to Mrs. Link to be brought so 
closely into contact Avith a young person who 
seemed really interested in her, and to whom she 
could talk of things which were of moment to her- 
self. 

Then, too, Yailette rendered her many little 
services which she had scarcely thought could be 
performed by other than herself, but the receiving 
of which from the hands of another touched her 
deeply and made her more than willing to do all in 
her poAver for Yailette. 

But she was most to John Henry. She pos- 
sessed that true dignity of character which 
shielded her from any presuming on his part, and 
on her part gave frankness without folly. 

To him she became as a sort of shrine at which 
he worshipped without presuming to draw near ex- 
cept with unsandaled feet and a spirit of true 
reverence. 

Her power over him was in her living rather 


192 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


than in words, for they held little conversation; 
blit when he noticed that she took pains to give his 
mother the best chair, he did the same; and he 
even began to fill the water pail, and to do other 
things which' it now dawned upon him pertained 
to him rather than to a woman to do, especially 
when that woman was his mother. 

Another thing which Yailette did was to induce 
him to read aloud to his mother and herself even- 
ings while they worked. 

At first he was shy and embarrassed and got 
on but poorly, but he persevered, and once forget- 
ting himself he proved a tolerably good reader, and 
these readings were continued long after Yailette 
had passed on her way. 

John Henryks better nature was awakening. 
Life began to seem to him something besides a 
strife after dollars and cents, and its refinements 
and 'courtesies, which he had hitherto ignored, be- 
came of account. 

Kitty, too, did her part in the good wrought 
through’ the part of association. 

Hitherto his standard of measurement had been 
himself, but now other ideals began to loom up 
before his mental vision, and to beckon him to 
their imitation. 

She was a kind-hearted little creature with lit- 
tle of that pride which so often associates itself 
with the knowledge of wealth. She was one of 
those individuals who pass along through the 
world as if to disseminate life and sparkle and 
add to the pleasures of others, while the deeper, 
sadder emotions incident to such natures are hid- 


Kitty’s Visit. 193 

den nnderneatli this light exterior or reserved for 
the hours of the heart's silent communings. 

She seemed as happy and as much at home in 
the humble farmhouse as in her mother’s luxurious 
parlor, and she placed the Links under no feel- 
ing of restraint on account of her presence. 

She was good at story telling, and to the Links 
she was as a breeze from the outside world with 
her stories of school life and incidents of city hap- 
penings. Mrs. Link said she had not laughed so 
much since she was a girl, and J ohn Henry did not 
realize how much she brightened life for him, until 
after her departure he went back to his plodding, 
quiet ways. 

One day at dinner J ohn Henry suggested that at 
the close of the afternoon session of school, his 
mother and Vailette give Kitty a. ride for the 
purpose of showing her the country in that vicinity. 

^^What ! take a horse right out of the hay- 
field?” said the astonished mother, who would 
about as soon have thought of starting for Boston 
or Hew York on the next train. 

But John Henry insisted that Old Dip could 
very well be spared, and so the matter was settled 
to the delight of all, but to none more than to that 
of Mrs. Link, to whom this would certainly be an 
event. 

But ^^The best laid plans of mice and men gang 
aft aglee,” and thus it proved in the case of Mrs. 
Link, for just as school closed her sister and two 
small children came to spend the night, so she 
must needs stay at home. 

The younger- ladies proposed deferring the ride 
until next day, but as it was a question whether 


194 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


Old Dip would be available at another time^ it 
seemed best that the two girls should go alone. 

The time for starting came, J ohn Henry 
brought up Old Dip and the chariot, and the two 
set out. 

Mrs. Link, who understood Old Dip^s cranks and 
prejudices, was to have acted as driver, but that be- 
ing out of the question, Vailette took the reins, 
while Kitty offered to carry the whip and act as 
general master of ceremonies. 

As they started, John Henry said with more 
than his usual gallantry in giving suggestions: 
Hf you go through the beech woods be careful to 
hold your reins tight when you go down the hill,’^ 
and Kitty had sung back: ^^Yes, weJl make Old 
Dip caper beautifully.^^ 

It was a delightful afternoon, and the girls an- 
ticipated a glorious time. 

Old Dip started out beautifully on a good 
round trot, and Kitty began to fear that she should 
have no use for her whip, but she learned the les- 
son so desirable for mortals — ^that it is sometimes 
as well to wait a little before jumping to conclu- 
sions. 

Old Dip had not gone far before he discovered 
that there was a new hand at the helm, and he took 
it into his silly old head to do very much as he 
pleased. 

The first indication of this conclusion came in 
the form of a suddenly reduced rate of speed, out 
of which neither coaxing nor the application of 
Kitty’s whip could induce him to extricate himself, 
and the girls laughed till they had little strength 
left to adopt vigorous measures of any kind. 


195 


Kitty’s Visit. 

Then, when Old Dip had seemingly shown them 
that he would go as he liked, of his own accord 
he started up again and they whizzed along the 
road till Kitty declared that she could scarcely 
count the fence posts. 

For a time all went well. They chatted and 
took in the scenery with great delight, and began 
to reproach themselves for having considered Old 
Dip as other than a model of propriety. 

Soon they came in sight of the beech woods, 
where they designed stopping to get some moss for 
Kitty’s aquarium. 

Evidently this was not only a familiar, but a 
favorite haunt of Old Dip, and no sooner had he 
fully established himself within its cooling shade 
and come to a place where the overhanging 
branches promised a suitable lunch^ than he de- 
clared his intentions by stopping stock still, while 
he raised his head as high as his check-rein would 
let him, and by vigorous jerks and pulls helped 
himself to a generous supply of delicious leaves 
and twigs, and from this delig’htful feast no 
amount of jerking of the reins would induce him 
to desist. 

The moss bank was some distance farther on, 
but as Old Dip was not available; the girls took 
their basket and went on without him. 

The work of filling the basket with moss was 
lengthened by a visit to a spring which bubbled 
up clear and cool from out of a rock some little 
distance away, and then there was a famous cave 
which Kitty must needs see. 

Suffice it to say, some little time elapsed before 
they returned to the spot where they had left the 


196 The Poorhouse Lark. 

wagon, and when they did so, neither that nor 
Old Dip was to be seen. 

Then, with dismay they recalled the fact that 
they had forgotten to hitch Old Dip, and for anght 
they knew he might have returned home. In 
fact this theory seemed probable, as in the soft 
earth they could see the tracks where the wagon 
had turned, and there was little question but that 
Old Dip was sufficiently familiar with the route to 
make his own way. 

There was nothing to do but follow Old Dip, 
so taking the basket of moss between them they 
started out, but to their great relief, just as they 
emerged from the woods they met a young man 
who, having seen them pass a short time pre- 
viously, had taken in the situation, and was hurry- 
ing on through fear of accident. 

Having heard the history of the affair, with a 
merry twinkle in his eye, the stranger suggested 
the propriety of John Henry acting as charioteer 
next time, and helping the young ladies into the 
chariot, he handed Yailette the reins and bowed 
them on their way. 

Then the two pledged themselves not to leave 
Old Dip again, until he was safely within the care 
of his master, and so they wended their way 
through the beech woods. 

As they left the beech woods, a beautiful view 
presented itself. They were at the top of a high 
hill where they could not only take in an extended 
valley in all its summer glory, but three tree- 
embowered villages added to the scene. 

Por a time Old Dip seemed to enter into the 


Kitty s Visit. 197 

enjoyment of scenery viewing with as much en- 
joyment as any of the party. 

He stood calmly winking and blinking as 
though at his mature time of life he had learned 
to enjoy himself without the fuss and feathers 
manifested by these frivolous young girls. 

But after a time he began to throw up his head 
in a peculiar way, which John Henry would have 
recognized as meaning want to move on/^ but 
which to the uninitiated meant nothing special. 

Then he became so restless that they were glad 
to say to him ^%o/^ and started down the hill, 
which was not so very steep, but was long. 

Old Dip was one of those horses w'hich have a 
way of making up any time which they may pre- 
viously have lost, in going down hill, and it was 
for this reason that his master had given the 
charge with regard to a fight rein after passing the 
beech wood. 

The charge was needed, and both girls used all 
the strength at command, at the reins, during 
what seemed to them their perilous descent of the 
long hill. 

But they reached the farmhouse at last all safe 
and sound, just as John Henry finished milking 
and was ready to care for Old Dip, and that even- 
ing both Mrs. Link aud John Henry laughed till 
the tears came at the narration of the afternoon^s 
adventures. 

The next day Kitty returned home, but so long 
as Vailette remained at the farmhouse, she always 
read to the Links^ kind remembrances and spicy 
bits concerning her visit, from long letters which 
she frequently received from the merry Kitty. 


198 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


CHAPTEE XXXIV. 

MISS ELVIRA VISITS ASHTOiq* FARM. 

^"The life of which our souls are scant: 

More life and fuller, that we want/' 

Umbrella, traveling case, Inncli basket ! Yes, 
they were all there. True, she had set her lunch 
basket down while she bought her ticket, and in 
her nervous haste started off without it. But who 
ever knew Miss Elvira to forget a thing for long, 
and didn^t she think of the basket in time to rush 
back and get it just as the train came steaming in ? 

This was the opening up of a new life-chapter to 
Miss Elvira, for she had at last yielded to Vail- 
ette^s urgent invitations and was going to spend a 
week at Ashton Farm. 

Xot since the time when she left her fathers 
house to live at Dr. SnelFs, had she paid any 
visits. 

She watched the change of passengers at the 
various stations, and it seemed strange that among 
them all was not one face on which she could trace 
a familiar look. 

Just then a gentleman entered the ear, and 
came slowly down the aisle looking for a seat. 

He was a man past middle life, and one whose 


Miss Elvira Visits Ashton Farm. 199 

dress and bearing indicated that be belonged to 
the upper class of society. 

As he reached the seat where Miss Elvira sat, a 
look of recognition passed over his face, and ex- 
tending his hand, he exclaimed: ^^Why, Elvira! 
Is this you? I need not have used the form of 
interrogation, for, as your brother Ned used to 
say, should have known you in the porridge pot,^ 
you have changed so little. You haven^t grown 
old like some of us.^^ 

Then the stranger, whom Miss Elvira recognized 
as a neighbor of her childhood days, took a seat 
beside her, and together they went back to the old 
times when they were young together. 

But each was careful to avoid reference to a cer- 
tain moonlight evening when two lovers strolled 
together through the crisp, rustling, autumn leaves 
which covered their pathway as they took their 
homeward Avay from singing school, for they two 
had quarrelled, and had then gone their respective 
ways. 

She took the position where our story finds her. 
He studied and became first a lawyer, and then 
took a seat in the State Legislature. 

Like ^^ships that pass in the night’^ they now 
spoke one another, and then again passed on their 
respective ways. 

On reaching her destination Miss Elvira was 
met by Vailette and Speed, and was soon on her 
way to Ashton Farm. 

She was slightly nervous at first over her rapid 
rate of locomotion, but noticing this, Vailette soon 
had Speed reined down to a more quiet pace. 

Such a holiday as that week was to Miss Elvira. 


200 


I'he Poorhouse Lark. 


It seemed so strange to get np in the morning 
with nothing to do but sit with folded hands nntil 
breakfast was ready. But she could not stand this 
for all day, and insisted on going into the kitchen 
and helping with the work, and Vailette seeing 
that she would really be happier in doing that, let 
her have her way. 

She was also pleased when Vailette asked her 
to make some of her famous biscuits, and Mrs. 
Ashton pronounced them the best she had ever 
eaten. 

In the afternoon, when the work was finished, 
Vailette would suggest several things and let her 
take her choice as to how the afternoon should be 
spent. 

To Vailette^s surprise. Miss Elvira chose of- 
tenest to go into the fields, where she seemed like 
a girl again in her display of love of country life. 

In the evening she and Mr. and Mrs. Ashton 
talked until far into the night, sometimes of the 
present, hut oftener of the past, and Vailette was 
content to listen, only now and then throwing in 
some remark at a point where she knew it would 
bring a smile to her grandfathers face. 

Miss Elvira had not conceived a strong admira- 
tion for the Ashtons, but her regard for them 
increased with every passing day, and she re- 
proached herself greatly for her lack of charity. 

Miss Elvira did not return to Burleigh quite the 
same. Her horizon was just a little broadened. 

She had seen new sights, and met new people, 
and there was something different to think of as 
she washed her dishes and swept her rooms. 

It had not made her dissatisfied or unhappy, 


Miss Elvira Visits Ashton Farm. 201 

for to her home was home, and she was glad to get 
back to Burleigh. But she was always glad ’hat 
in spite of the effort which it cost to get started, 
she accepted Vailette’s invitation to visit Ashton 
Barm. 


202 


The Poorhouse Lark, 


CHAPTEE XXXV. 

CHANGES. 

have learned from my own experience, that 
the greater part of our happiness or misery de- 
pends upon our dispositions, and not on our cir- 
cumstances. We carry the seeds of the one or the 
other about with us in our minds, wherever we go"* 
— Mrs. John Adams. 

The years roll on, bringing their changes as 
years will, whether these changes come with slow, 
steady pace, or with overwhelming rush and power. 

Dan has finished his college course, taken a 
thorough course in medical study and surgery, at- 
tended medical lectures, had hospital practice, and 
now in real earnest he stands where he has long 
wished to be, a regular practitioner in his father’s 
office. 

To all it is becoming apparent that Dan is soon 
to become his father’s successor, for Dr. Snell has 
reached that stage where he can practice but little. 

His brother physicians tell him that with an 
entire and long continued rest from professional 
work, he may yet enjoy a comfortable old age, but 
they pronounce this rest imperative, and advise 


Changes, 203 

him to buy a farm and turn his attention to agri- 
cultural pursuits or stock raising. 

Dr. Snell listened to this verdict with sadness 
of heart. 

How could he give up his profession, even to 
Dan? 

Where was bread and butter to come from? 
For some years past his health had been so poor 
that it was all he could do to earn enough to 
cover his own expenses and educate Dan, and now 
to feel that he must give up practice entirely 

From a boy he had always thought that next to 
being a physician he would like to be a farmer. 
Strange to say of one wdio seemed so busy with 
his own interests, he was one of the most active 
among those who promoted the interests of agri- 
cultural fairs in Burleigh. 

He was also fond of animals. His horses were 
petted like so many children, and he was consid- 
ered the best judge of horned cattle in that section 
of country. 

Mr. Ashton’s Jerseys were his special admira- 
tion, and he showed so much interest in them that 
Vailette often told him that she questioned 
whether it were not they instead of herself which 
drew him to Ashton Farm. 

He had never so much as now regretted the loss 
of his money by the bank robbery. With that he 
might have purchased a farm. But whenever he 
gave himself up to these vain regrets, the picture 
of little Vailette offering him her little red bank 
filled with pennies which she had saved through 
her own self-denial, came to his mind, and his eyes 
filled with tears as they did on that occasion, and 


204 The Poorhouse Lark. 

he at once turned his thoughts in another direc- 
tion. 

He did not know that Vailette had never ceased 
her efEorts to undo the past, and that more than 
he had any idea of, he had her to thank for little 
comforts in rhe home, which Miss Elvira with all 
her economy conld not have purchased without her 
aid. 

Prince, too, has felt the power of time and hard 
work. 

He steps as proudly as ever, but his pace is 
slower, and he shows a strong disposition to stop 
at every house where Dr. Snell has been accus- 
tomed to pay professional calls, much to the an- 
noyance of Dr. Dan, wlio does not wish to have the 
appearance of following so closely in his father’s 
wake. 

But Prince will soon be set aside for Dr. Snell’s 
exclusive use when he chooses to ride for recrea- 
tion, for when Dr. Dan entered on his professional 
career, Mr. Ashton gave him a colt which now does 
good service on the road, and in time will gain 
endurance sufficient to take Prince’s place en- 
tirely. 


Vailette. 


205 


CHAPTER XXXVI. 

VAILETTE. 

"From hour to hour we ripe and ripeF 

At Ashton Farm change is more apparent than 
in the home of Dr. Snell. 

Mr. and Mrs. Ashton have now reached the stage 
where there is no denying the fact that they belong 
to the class termed ^^old people.^^ 

Hard as it was for him to do so, Mr. Ashton has 
been obliged to give up farm work almost entirely. 

Mrs. Ashton, who is five years his junior, prides 
herself on her continued vigor, and boasts that she 
gets along with her work as well as ever, at which 
remark the neighbors look knowingly at each other, 
and when she is not by they remark to the effect 
that if Vailette were to step out Grandma Ashton 
would begin to doubt her ability to keep her work 
up as well as ever. 

But the greatest change has come over Vailette. 

When she came to Ashton Farm she had entered 
on the transition stage from girlhood to woman- 
hood, but girlhood still held sway and she did not 
seem in haste to leave that state. She seemed 
younger than her years. 

Burleigh people said, ^Tt’s a pity that this bright 
young girl should leave such a home as Dr. Snell’s 


2o6 The Poorhouse Lark. 

and go to live on a farm with two prosy old 
people/^ 

They looked at self-interest and present good. 
God saw the end from the beginning and knew 
that this character needed for its comely rounding 
out, the discipline which comes through self-sacri- 
fice and thoughtfulness for others. 

At first everything was new to Vailette, and the 
change was so great that she lived in a constant 
dream of delight. 

But after a time she had discovered every nook 
and corner of the rambling old barns, visited every 
place of interest on the farm and throughout the 
neighborhood, and imagined herself feeling as did 
Napoleon when he found no more worlds to con- 
quer. 

Then came the first real unhappy moments 
which she had known at Ashton Farm. Bu(t 
these were of short duration. Dr. Snell had an- 
ticipated this time, and through a timely letter of 
just the right sort, fortified her against its power. 
He told her that next to trust in God, work was the 
best panacea for ills of this kind. 

If she would be happy in her new position, she 
must forget herself in interest in her grandparents, 
and take up some work on which to expend her 
energies. 

This was a wise and timely suggestion, and for- 
tunately for her own best interest, Vailette heeded 
it. She resumed her musical studies with a will, 
as also a course of reading which Dr. Snell had in- 
sisted on her taking up some months previous to 
her leaving Burleigh. 

Thus her mind was occupied, while she also gave 


Vailette. 


207 


attention to various household duties whereby to 
help her grandmother, and she was always ready to 
save her grandfather steps, or to minister to and 
amuse him when opportunity occurred. 

She had never felt especially thankful to Miss 
Elvira that she had insisted on training her to 
housekeeping ways, and Miss Elvira^s training 
meant a rigid performance in every part, of what- 
ever task she was set to, to the best of her ability. 

There was little chance for shirking, under Miss 
Elvira^s system. Yailette well remembered sev- 
eral occasions when of her own accord, or at Dan^s 
suggestion she had tried the shirking process, and 
she also recalled the fact that she never found it 
expedient to continue that sort of tricks. 

Vailette slipped into her domestic life so unob- 
trusively, or as Mrs. Ashton put it : ^^Did things so 
nicely, and with so little fuss and feathers,^^ that 
in time the grandmother learned to depend upon 
her as she had never done on anyone before. 

This pleased Vailette much, especially when she 
came to ask as in time she did, ^^Vailette, had I 
better do this,^^ or ^^Vailette, do you think thus and 
so,^^ for now she felt that she was of real service, 
and was truly carrying out her mother’s wish. 

But she enjoyed her grandfather more. He 
could best enter into her youthful interest, and she 
could confide in him as she could not in her grand- 
mother. 

Once, and once only they talked of the part 
which her father had played in the bank robbery, 
and then Vailette spoke freely of her purpose to 
restore to Dr. Snell the money lost, if ever it lay 
in her power. 


2o8 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


After Vailette said this, Mr. Ashton was silent 
for some time, and when next he spoke it was in 
these words: help yon/^ and then the sub- 

ject was dropped, never to be discussed by these 
two again, for both shrank from it as from a loath- 
some thing. 

Vailette had not abandoned her jollity and it 
answered her well here, for her grandfather liked 
nothing better than to listen to her nonsense, or to 
some reminiscences of her childish capers, es- 
pecially those in which she and Dan were asso- 
ciated. 

She, on her part, enjoyed seeing him laugh and 
seem happy, and took all the more pains to amuse 
him, now that he was laid aside from active ser- 
vice. 

Though since Etholine left them, Ashton house 
had not echoed to the voices of young people, 
Vailette was at liberty to invite as much company 
as she chose, and they seemed to enjoy the coming. 
In fact Vailette was deuied little for which she 
expressed a wish. 

But in spite of all this, her head was not turned. 

Being obliged to think and act for herself has 
done her a deal of good, and this combined with 
the purpose to be a true woman according to the 
ideal which she has chosen — ^that of being true at 
the center of being, led her onward to the realiza- 
tion of just that which her mother had wished. 


Shadows. 


209 


CHAPTER XXXVIL 

SHADOWS. 

''It is too late; the life of all his Hood 
Is touched corruptibly; and his pure brain 
Doth, by the idle comments that it mahes. 
Foretell the ending of mortality/* 

— Shakespeare. 

A DARK cloud has settled down over the village 
of Braton and its immediate vicinity. 

The same fever which desolated the home of 
Crazy Luce has again visited this section and rages 
with redoubled power, until what was said of 
Egyptian homes at the time of the slaying of the 
first-born, seems almost literally true in this case, 
for there are many houses where there is at least 
one dead, and in some cases the number is not 
limited to a unit. 

One day Vailette noticed that her grandfather 
had a look which she had never seen on his face 
before, and her heart sank within her, for at that 
time, to be sick suggested fever. 

Her hand trembled as she held a glass of water 
to his lips, for closer inspection of the case as- 
sured her by the unmistakable signs which she 
knew, that the scourge was upon them. 


210 The Poorhouse Lark. 

A physician was summoned, and as soon as he 
could leave other patients he came, but it was to 
confirm their fears by sa}dng that it was another 
case of fever, and that the severity of the attack, 
combined with the age and previous feebleness of 
the patient, made it very doubtful whether he 
W'ould be able to weather the storm. 

There was no sleep for either Yailette or her 
grandmother that night, for in spite of medicine 
the sick man grew rapidly worse, though Mrs. Ash- 
ton, who was good at nursing, tried all the appli- 
ances she was master of which she thought might 
by any possibility be of use. 

So much sickness made the difficulty of getting 
help so great that Mrs. Ashton and Yailette felt 
compelled to get along as best they could, and both 
soon went far beyond their strength, and had 
little chance to recuperate through rest, for Mr. 
Ashton required constant attendance. 

He became delirious, and sometimes it was all 
they could both do to keep him reasonably quiet. 

Mrs. Ashton also fell a victim of the fever and 
Yailette was left alone to care for both. 

This seemed the overflowing drop in the cup al- 
ready full, yet there was more for Yailette. She 
did her best until the doctor came, thinking that 
possibly he might be able to tell her of someone 
whom she might get to help her in her emergency, 
but he had been referred to in so many such emer- 
gencies that he was powerless in the present one. 

As they were talking, Yailette heard a rap at the 
side door, and supposing that the chore-boy awaited 
orders, she went to answer the call. 

As she opened the door, to her unbounded aston- 


Shadows. 


2 It 


ishment she stood face to face with John Henry. 

The J ohn Henry who came sedately np the steps 
and rapped in a gingerly manner, did not seem the 
same that Vailette met on her first advent at Mrs. 
Link^s. 

The air of self-assurance was gone, and in its 
stead was a grave though somewhat awkward dig- 
nity which had come through mingling more with 
other people, and a desire to, as Mrs. Link would 
have put it, ^^Be more like other folks.^^ 

The savor of Vailette’s stay and Kitty’s visit 
at the Link home, still lingered, and through all 
the years had been a stimulus to John Henry in the 
right direction. 

Awkward he would always he. Kature had de- 
creed that. But underneath his covering of sel- 
fishness he really possessed a kind heart, and as 
slowly but surely this covering had been lifted and 
he had learned more and more to sometimes put 
John Henry second instead of always first, he had 
blossomed out into a young man of whom people 
spoke very well. 

Both he and his mother were good in sickness, 
and this had to do with his appearance at Ashton 
Farm on this particular occasion. 

He had learned of Vailette’s strait, and had 
come to offer assistance in the care of Mr. Ashton. 

He had thought it all out — just what he would 
say, and he felt no embarrassment until Yailette 
appeared at the door, when suddenly his wits took 
wings and he could not think of a word of his pre- 
pared speech. 

In answer to Vailette’s ^^Good morning” he re- 
sponded with — thought as how — Ma, she said 


212 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


as mebby — ^sTow, don’t yon want as why and 

here he broke down entirely. 

What had brought John Henry there, Vailette 
could not divine, and the nature of his introductory 
remarks was so surprising that she was totally at a 
loss as to what she was expected to say. 

She was worn out, and so nervous as to have lost 
in a measure, her usual self-control, and the ludi- 
crousness of the situation so impressed her as to 
set her otf in a violent fit of laughter. 

John Henry laughed too, out of sheer sympathy, 
and it did both good, for thus the ice was broken 
and the embarrassment relieved. 

Then, in a straightforward way John Henry told 
his errand, when tears came into Vailette’s eyes 
and she cried as hard as she had laughed, until 
John Henry began to fear that he had made a mis- 
take in coming and to apologize. 

This brought Vailette to her senses, and she has- 
tened to assure him by saying that she was never 
more thankful to anybody in her life, and that she 
did not know how she could possibly get along 
without him. 

So John Henry was installed as nurse for Mr. 
Ashton, and on learning of Mrs. Ashton’s state, 
he insisted that Vailette should go for his mother, 
whom he felt sure would also act as nurse for Mrs. 
Ashton, and leave Vailette at liberty to attend to 
other duties. 

Speed was at once ordered and Vailette set out. 

How good it did seem to her to be out in the 
fresh air once more. But her anxiety made her 
put Speed to the test of being worthy of his name, 
and in due time Mrs. Link’s house was reached. 


Shadows. 


213 

John Henry sent a note to his mother which was 
hastily delivered, and with alacrity Mrs. Link has- 
tened to comply with the request therein contained, 
that she come at once to Mr. Ashton^s. 

The meantime she remarked to Vailette, ^^John 
Henry is a master hand at taking care of sick 
people, and I^m sure he couldn’t be beat as a nurse 
for Mr. Ashton.” 

Then for a season Vailette had respite from 
over-exertion, but not from care and anxiety, for 
both the fever patients grew worse daily, and the 
physician gave little hope of recovery in either 
case. 

Vailette was little accustomed to sickness, and 
she would not believe that her grandparents would 
not recover, and she felt almost angry at the doctor 
for hinting such a thing. 

John Henry fared little better, and when he 
sought to prepare her for the worst by bringing to 
her notice what he knew to be some fatal symp- 
toms, she disliked it so much that he did not re- 
peat the attempt even when he knew the end to be 
near. 

She would not heed the summons : 

*'Let the door he on the latch in your room. 
For it may be that at midnight 1 will comeF 

At midnight Death’s messenger did come to 
summon Mr. Ashton, and two days later Mrs. 
Ashton followed. 

Vailette was grief-stricken. She bowed as the 
wind-swept sapling bows before the hurricane. 

She seemed so overcome and dazed that for a 


214 


The Poorhoiise Lark. 


time Dr. Snell feared lest her mind be unbalanced. 

Mrs. Link and John Henry proved invaluable 
helpers, and did for her everything except minis- 
ter to the allaying of her sorrow. That was be- 
yond the power of their ministry and they recog- 
nized this fact, though both pitied her from the 
bottom of their hearts. 

Knowing from letters that Dr. Snell was very 
feeble, Yailette had refrained from asking him to 
come to Ashton Farm, and her own hopes had so 
toned her letters that he had not deemed this im- 
mediately necessary. 

But as he saw the end approaching, J ohn Henry 
could not refrain from letting Dr. Snell know the 
true state of the case for Vailette^s sake, and on 
the evening before the death of Mr. Ashton, Dr. 
Snell and Dr. Dan walked in and asked for Vail- 
ette. 

It was a quiet funeral, that of Mr. and Mrs. 
Ashton, who were buried in one grave. 

Yailette was the only relative, and the com- 
munity was still too stricken to heed even the call 
attendant upon the burial of a household. 

Yailette heard the solemn words of the burial 
service, and knew that Dan and some one else sang 
a hymn. But the voices sounded far away as 
though they came out of the unknown, and when 
Dr. Snell led her away from the open grave, as 
she entered the carriage she fainted quite away. 

When consciousness returned she was on the bed 
in her own room with Mrs. Link and Dr. Snell 
beside her. 

The latter spoke cheerfully of things calculated 
to divert her mind, and mentioning incidentally. 


Shadows. 


215 


though purposely, the fact that Dan must return to 
his work soon, asked if she would not go down and 
take tea with them that evening. 

John Henry and Dan had struck up quite a 
friendship, and the former thought there was no 
one like Dr. Snell. 

Dr. Snell insisted that Yailette must return to 
Burleigh with him, and promised that if she would 
do so, both he and Dan would wait two days and as- 
sist in preliminary arrangements, Mrs. Link anc 
J ohn Henry promising to remain also. 

On the morning of the second day, as Yailette 
and Dr. Snell were alone on the piazza, the village 
lawyer appeared, and, with a dignity becoming his 
position, after recognizing Yailette and being in- 
troduced to Dr. Snell, he gravely told them that 
he had in charge a matter of interest to both of 
them, which, if it were their wish, he would now 
present. 

He then, after much fumbling, produced and 
unfolded a sealed document, which, with a consid- 
erable show of importance, he in lengthy discourse 
informed Yailette and Dr. Snell — looking most 
of the time at the pretty Yailette — that the docu- 
ment in his hands represented the Last Will and 
Testament of the late Levi Ashton, who was known 
to both parties. 

He then, slowly proceeded to read the introduc- 
tion: ^‘^This is to certify that I, Levi Ashton, 
being seventy-two years of age, and of sound mind, 
etc.^^ 

He paused at the date to insert one of his paren- 
theses, and as he did so Yailette went back in mem- 
ory to a little incident which she distinctly remem- 


2I6 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


bered to have occurred on that day, and also re- 
called the fact that this was that day when the con- 
versation which she had held with her grandfather 
concerning her father’s part in the bank robbery 
had occurred, and her feelings overcame her so 
that she could scarcely listen to what followed. 

But the lawyer’s talk, to which she gave little 
heed, gave time to recover herself, and she fortified 
herself to listen, though each word was torture to 
her. 

It seemed so sacrilegious to be talking in such a 
business-like way of anything which had pertained 
to her grandparents especially of that which she 
knew had been so much to them. 

Mechanically she listened to the provision for 
her grandmother and herself, and when the lawyer 
interposed another fiow of words, thought the or- 
deal over. But again he brought her back to the 
consideration of business, and this time she heard: 

give and bequeath to Dr. A. B. Snell uncondi- 
tionally my real estate as described in deed to be 
found among my papers, together with all that per- 
tains thereto, except the horse named Speed, and 
the harnesses and conveyances used with him, 
which I give and bequeath to Yailette McCrae.’^ 

Vailette was listless no longer. Her grand- 
father had not forgotten his promise, and the great 
desire of her heart was now met. 

The act of inherited disgrace had always trou- 
bled her far less than the thought that Dr. Snell 
had suffered on her father’s account, and the 
thought that that debt was now canceled was a joy 
untold. 


Shadows. 


217 


He naturally supposed that the will was of im- 
portance to Vailette, but that it meant anything 
for him aside from interest in her, he had no idea. 

It was now his turn to show weakness, and he 
came almost as near fainting as Vailette had done. 


2i8 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


CHAPTER XXXYIII. 

coNCLusioisr. 

^'Therefore, all hearts in love Vise their own 
tongues/' 

After the reading of the will, it was decided 
better that on account of the demands of his pro- 
fession, Dan return to Burleigh as by appointment, 
while Dr. Snell should remain a few days longer 
in order to familiarize himself with his new pos- 
sessions. 

Dan had seemed less pleased than the others at 
the good fortune of Dr. Snell. 

He tried to make himself feel glad at the pros- 
pect of improvement in health which opened up 
for his father, but he was human and thoughts of 
self intruded. 

This probably meant the breaking up of his 
home for at least a large part of the year, and— 
shall we say it ? — worst of all, it meant continued 
separation from Yailette, and he felt this all the 
more keenly that it had been arranged that hence- 
forth she was to recognize the home in Burleigh 
as being as fully hers as though she had never left 
it. But this changed all. 

He did not wish to be selfish, and he well knew 


Conclusion. 


219 


ihat he had a battle to fight with himself before 
he could face the situation. So, while the others 
were busy, he took his hat and went out for a walk. 

Wandering through the apple orchard, he came 
to a retired spot just back of the house where Mr. 
Ashton had built for Vailette an arbor, over which 
she had trained vines, and where she spent many 
happy hours. 

He was not given to melancholy, but to-day life 
seemed sadly out of joint. 

Vailette^s silent grief touched him deeply and he 
longed to comfort her, but he had never known 
such sorrow, and his felt inability made him silent, 
for well he knew that Vailette would wish no com- 
jnonplaces or platitudes. 

For years he had recognized the fact that Vail- 
ette was more to him than the sister which she 
had at first seemed, and he had long wished to de- 
clare his love. But he would ask no woman to 
become his wife until he was in a way to offer her 
some visible means of support. He had also been 
deterred by the position which Vailette held at her 
grandparents, for well he knew that it would hurt 
his cause to suggest such a thing, as her leaving 
these old people when they needed her so much. 

But these objections were now removed. He 
was doing well in his profession, and until he heard 
the contents of the will he had thought to confer 
a favor by offering Vailette not only his heart, but 
a home as well. 

But here it was — She might prefer to remain at 
the farm, for he knew how she loved every nook 
and corner of it, and this thought brought sadness 
untold, 


220 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


Vailette had for some time been looking over 
letters and papers which had belonged to her grand- 
parents, and among them were some which had 
given her facts of family history which she had 
not kndwn, and some which she thought it better 
that she had never known. 

This brought her to the reflection that however 
heartless it may seem at the time, it may be truer 
to one^s friends to destroy confidential letters while 
one has it in his power, than to leave them to be 
read by no one knows who, when the owner dies. 

Dwelling on this thought she wended her way 
to her usual resort, the arbor, just as Dan reached 
that spot on his return, and together they entered 
and sat down. 

It was one of those hours when soul meets soul, 
and bows before the sweet mystery of love. 

Words have their places, and their uses, but 
what need for their formality, when all is under- 
stood in ^That still tongue which souls interpret 
hj?” 

They pall and die away, and seem fit only for 
lesser things than the pledging of hearts to that 
constancy which shall lead to the solemn bond: 
^^Until Death do us part."^^ 

It needed no formal phrasing to plight the love 
of Dan and Vailette. That had long been recog- 
nized by both, and past experience had proved that 
although they sometimes differed in opinion, yet, 
in general, their associated lives had run peacefully, 
and this promised well for the future. 

But even this solemn occasion could not pass 
without Vailette seeing its amusing features, and 
when Dan spoke disparagingly of his limited 


Conclusion. 


221 


means, and of the plain home to which he must 
necessarily ask her to go, she replied demurely: 
^^Barkis is willinV^ and then they returned to the 
old life of unrestraint. 

H: * * * :Jj 4: 

Again the years roll on, and now we come to 
take the parting hand and bid our friends good- 
hye. 

Walter McCrae’s close confinement within prison 
walls proved too much for a constitution already 
broken down by intemperance and immorality, and 
one year after his incarceration within the peni- 
tentiary, he died of prison fever and was carried 
to a convict^s grave, unwept, unhonored and un- 
sung. 

Yailette gave good heed unto her mother^s charge 
concerning Crazy Luce. 

When the latter became old and feeble so that 
she could no longer amuse herself by taking her 
accustomed strolls, Vailette tried to persuade her 
to take up her residence with her. 

But Crazy Luce stoutly refused. She had be- 
come so accustomed to her Poorhouse home that 
she was best content there. 

So Vailette made her as comfortable as possible 
there while she lived and at her death she was laid 
to rest beside her husband and child in the Braton 
cemetery. 

As soon as preliminary arrangements were com- 
pleted, Dr. Snell entered into possession of his 
farm and great benefit to his health resulted. 

His winters he spent in Burleigh. But as soon 
as the coming of spring made it expedient, he and 


222 


The Poorhouse Lark. 


Miss Elvira went to the farm^ which became more 
and more their desirable home. 

Braton soon felt the change at Ashton Farm, for 
the present occupants lived not for themselves 
alone, but for all who fell within the range of their 
needed ministry. 

At the Ashton Farm Dan and Vailette were 
joined in the bond which made of twain one flesh, 
and then Dan took his bride to the old home, 
where their lives are being spent in happiness and 
utility. 


THE END. 



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